


The Only One (a Tom Hiddleston fanfic)

by circa1927



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Dom Tom Hiddleston, F/M, Hooker, Oral Sex, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Prostitute, Sex, Sexy, Tom Hiddleston Is A Sweetheart, cinderella story, tom hiddleston - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:45:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/circa1927/pseuds/circa1927
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elle has been called every name in the book—working girl, hooker, prostitute, lady of the night.  She prefers ‘escort’ and she also prefers to keep her business to herself. She’s not looking for love, she’s looking to make a living.  Love is for people with options.  She has none.</p><p>Tom isn’t looking for love either.  He’s eternally busy, and constantly on the move—going from one acting job to another.  He can’t deal with the pressure and responsibilities of a real relationship, and he doesn’t want to be tied down just as his career is taking off.  But he’s still a man, and he still has needs.</p><p>So when Tom and Elle meet, and sparks start to fly, Tom offers Elle a once in a lifetime opportunity.  Keep him company. Fly around the world on a press tour with him.  Be at his beck and call.  And in return, he will pay her an amazing amount of money.  Elle can’t think of anything better, it seems like the perfect job.  That is until feelings get involved.  And she finds she’s no longer out of options, but perhaps has more than she’d ever imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I told myself I was going to take a step back from writing Tom fic, but I can't seem to stay away. This is loosely inspired and based on the movie Pretty Woman. It features the Tom we all know and love, but with a bit of a naughty side. I hope you enjoy. As always, please leave feedback and let me know what you think! I'm still currently working on my other Tom fic, Darling. I have 3 complete fics, which include Hell Again, Crumbs and For the Love (All on Wattpad) Soon, I will be posting my first regular romance novel, called The Worst Part. Thank you for your support!

Elle has been called every name in the book—working girl, hooker, prostitute, lady of the night. She prefers ‘escort’ and she also prefers to keep her business to herself. She’s not looking for love, she’s looking to make a living. Love is for people with options. She has none.

Tom isn’t looking for love either. He’s eternally busy, and constantly on the move—going from one acting job to another. He can’t deal with the pressure and responsibilities of a real relationship, and he doesn’t want to be tied down just as his career is taking off. But he’s still a man, and he still has needs.

So when Tom and Elle meet, and sparks start to fly, Tom offers Elle a once in a lifetime opportunity. Keep him company. Fly around the world on a press tour with him. Be at his beck and call. And in return, he will pay her an amazing amount of money. Elle can’t think of anything better, it seems like the perfect job. That is until feelings get involved. And she finds she’s no longer out of options, but perhaps has more than she’d ever imagined.


	2. Chapter 1

“I’m going home with someone tonight. It’s been too long.” Marjorie pushed her breasts up as she tugged the low neckline of her body con dress down. It already fit her snug as a glove, so Elle wasn’t sure what she was hoping to achieve. Perhaps a nip slip. That would definitely attract some attention.

“Yeah? It’s been a long week for me. I think I’ll pass.” Elle sighed, folding her arms over her chest as she sat back on the highbacked bar stool. She was dressed much more modestly than her friend, in jeans and a silk blouse. Her sleek, short blond hair brushed her shoulders, and she was wearing minimal makeup. Marjorie, on the other hand, wore a blood red skin tight dress. Her blond hair was curled into big, loose waves, and her lipstick matched her clothing. Her long, slender legs were made even longer by black stiletto heels. Elle had taken one look at her when they’d met up at the bar that night, and rolled her eyes good naturedly. Marjorie didn’t take days off.

“What’s going on with John? I thought you were done with him.” Marjorie asked. Elle rolled her eyes. Dating wasn’t an easy thing. Relationships were not something she often tried, and when she did they usually ended horrendously. This thing with this guy, John, had lasted about two weeks and was quickly going south.

“Let’s not even go there.” Elle shifted. She wasn’t sure why she’d ever even tried to date—real dates. It never worked. Men were too territorial. Too jealous.

“Okay, so you’re single. You’re not going to join in? I thought you would. You’re a blond tonight.” Marjorie winked at her friend and nodded toward Elle’s short hair. Elle grinned and reached up, smoothing a hand over her rather expensive wig.

“Blonds do have more fun, but I just got home from a job—that financial guy. He likes blonds.” Elle shrugged as Marjorie wiggled an eyebrow at her and smiled. Elle often changed her hair color depending on her client. It was one of her specialties. She had a pretty impressive collection of wigs.

“You’re still going on dates with that financial guy? Girl, you must be making bank. But those types are always so bo-ring! Those are the worst kind. And usually shit in bed. How is he?” Marjorie asked, nodding to the bartender as he walked over. Marjorie tapped the rim of her nearly empty martini, indicating that she’d like another. Then she also motioned to Elle’s barely touched beer.

“Drink!” Marjorie exclaimed. Elle sighed and took a long sip from her beer.

“He’s how you’d expect. Boring. Oblivious. Sweaty.” Elle bit her lip and shook her head, trying to get the image of the forty four year old man out of her head. Sometimes she enjoyed her job. Sometimes it was fun, glamorous, and it was always changing. And the money. The money was imcomparable. The clients were mostly nice, sometimes even kind, and often gracious. It made everything easier when they were. Occasionally, first impressions were wrong though, and Elle would get stuck with a real dud. There had only been a small handful of times when the clients had been violent, or dangerous, and she’d thankfully gotten out of those situations quickly. Her agency was usually pretty good at weeding out the dodgy ones, but not always.

“Is he fat? Balding? Hairy?” Marjorie groaned, taking the olives out of the martini that was set down in front of her. She ate them slowly, seductively, which made Elle smile. Marjorie couldn’t help it. She oozed sex. It was probably why Marjorie made twice as much money as her, and had practically schooled her in the business. Elle felt she was still learning. Sighing, she shook her head and shrugged.

“No. Pretty standard. Alright looking. Just really abrupt and impatient and…” Elle drifted off. Being physically attracted to a client wasn’t always necessary. If they were kind, and sweet, then it was usually enough to get Elle through the date. Unsurprisingly, a man who maybe wasn’t so great looking, could be much more attractive by the end of the night due to a terrific personality and a keen sense of humor. And though the common perception of her job was that she was paid for sex, Elle found more recently that most of the men who sought her out were simply lonely. They wanted someone to talk to them, to listen to them. They wanted companionship. Sometimes sex came bundled in with that, but not always. But for every lonely, chatty semi-decent guy there was the rude, rough and abrasive ‘you’re just an object’ client, and so the good and the bad often leveled out.

“Do you have to see him again?” Marjorie asked, slurping down her drink. She threw one long leg over the other, her eyes wandering to a spot somewhere over Elle’s shoulder. Elle nodded and watched as Marjorie’s attention waned. Despite being such close friends, they were very different people. Marjorie was loud, outgoing, a magnet for attention. Elle kept to herself. She loved talking and getting to know new people, but she did so in a much more subtle way. Their totally different approaches and personalities seemed to mesh well together, and also often kept any sort of business related competition at bay. The sort of men who liked Marjorie often were not interested in Elle, and vice versa.

“Just once more. Tomorrow night for some charity benefit. He’s asked that I wear something tight, revealing and sexy. And no panties.” Elle rolled her eyes and took another drink. Marjorie laughed, her voice high and musical.

“Typical.” She smirked and then moved again, obviously checking out something behind Elle.

“What are you looking at?” Elle turned around. Marjorie giggled, and took a deep breath, sighing as if she had just woken from some sort of dream.

“Those guys over there. I feel like they look sort of familiar. Do you recognize them?” Marjorie glanced at Elle, who shrugged. “I’m taking one of them home. Maybe the blond. Or no, maybe the one with the spikey dark hair. He looks like he’d be dynamite in bed. I’m usually a good judge of…character.” She sat up a little straighter in her chair, trying to get a better look. Elle looked to where Marjorie was focused, and saw a small group of three men. They sat at the end of the bar, drinking beer and chatting animatedly.

The first one she saw was in fact a blond. Or maybe sandy brunette was a better word for it. It was hard to miss him. He stood in between his two friends, leaning against the bar. Once in a while he’d stand up straight, using his big hands to gesture and talk, and Elle was surprised to see how tall he was. He loomed over almost everyone else in the bar. Tall and lean, with a lovely, nearly aristocratic face—all sharp cheekbones and a strong, thin bladed nose.

She glanced quickly at tall blondy’s friends. One had russet colored hair. He was on the chubbier side, but he was dressed nicely in an expensive blazer and nice jeans. The one Marjorie had her eye on was standing next to tall blondy. He had dark, short spikey hair and an impressive build. He was thicker—build like a brick house, with muscles bulging against his dress shirt, his round ass obviously sculpted under his black slacks.

“So you like the Dark Hulk?” Elle flipped around, flashing a smile at Marjorie. Marjorie grinned and nodded.

“Mmm, yes. I wouldn’t even charge him.” She joked. Elle smirked and tapped her fingers on the bar, fought the urge to turn back around, and did it anyway. All three men were looking at her, in fact, they were staring at her. She blinked and then turned abruptly around, facing Marjorie again.

“Whoopsie. We’ve been caught.” Elle straightened up, and winked at Marjorie.

“Mmm, the dark Hulk is eyeing us up. Which one do you want? Chubs or that Golden God?” Marjorie licked her lips and drained her second martini. Elle shook her head and ran a finger down the side of her glass, through the condensation.

“Neither. I’m not interested. Not tonight.” She nudged Marjorie with her elbow. “But, you go right ahead. I’ll be your wing man.”

“Really? Not even just for fun? I’m not trying to work tonight. I just need a _man_.” Marjorie growled softly, clenching her fists as she winked at someone over Elle’s shoulder. Most likely the dark Hulk. Elle laughed and took a deep breath, then drank the rest of her beer.

“You’re insatiable.” She smiled, standing up as Marjorie did as well.

“I know. But clients are boring. I want someone on my terms. All my terms. You know how it is.” Marjorie ran a hand down her waist and thighs, smoothing out her tight dress. Elle nodded. She did know how it was. There was something decidedly different between having a meeting with a potential client, setting up rules and contract negotiations, and then following through with what was almost always a rather dry and choreographed date, sex or no sex. A girl could not live on fabricated dates and stale sex alone. Elle knew this. There were nights she felt like Marjorie—on the prowl for something real. Something tangible. Something juicy and bursting with lust, just waiting for her to sink her teeth into it. Tonight though, tonight was not one of those nights. She planned on helping Marjorie snag the dark Hulk, and then she was going to bed. Alone.

“Alright, let’s do this.” Elle raised an eyebrow at Marjorie, she squared her shoulders, pushing out her chest and then followed her friend toward the end of the bar, hips swaying to a rhythm that only god and men could hear.

 

 

 

The dark Hulk was the first one to speak, as Marjorie and Elle made their way toward the men. They acted as if they were going to pass right by the group, but the dark Hulk reached a hand out, gently stopping Marjorie as she swayed by.

“You are hot as hell. I’ve got to know your name.” Dark Hulk licked his lips, his dark eyes sweeping up and down Marjorie. Marjorie raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him, quiet for a moment, making him wait and giving him just as much eye. Elle stood back, taking in the scene, and getting a better look at the guys. After two years as an escort, she could guess a man’s income, confidence, sexual prowess after a few quick glances. These were definitely wealthy guys, judging by their clothes and their appearance. Neat, clean, taken care of. She could guess that the dark Hulk was rough, quick and passionate in bed. The chubby one who couldn’t take his eyes off his phone was most likely lazy, absentminded and somewhat selfish. Tall blondy…Elle focused on him for a second, thinking. He was a bit harder to read. Just as she got a rather vivid image of him, slowly unbuttoning the front of his shirt, he met her gaze. She blinked and looked back to where the dark Hulk was standing, murmuring toward Marjorie.

The dark Hulk was even bigger up close. Barely hitting 5’8” or 5’9”, he seemed as wide as he was tall. But it was all muscle, and Elle could see that. His arms were bigger than her entire torso, and he oozed testosterone. He was clean shaven, his dark eyes full of mischief as he smirked at Marjorie, who was eating it up.

The tall blondy was standing off to the side, smiling with detached amusement at his friend. He wore a plain white dress shirt, rolled up to reveal tanned forearms. He was tall and lean in a powerful way—lithe and agile with a runner’s body. But Elle could see the trim way his pants sat on his hips, and the movement of muscle pressed against the thin cotton shirt. He was fit, and strong, and confident in a quieter way than the dark Hulk.

She didn’t bother to really take in the third man, who sat at the bar now, absorbed in his phone. He had a wedding ring on, and while married men were often about 50% of her clientele (unfortunately), she knew this one was a lost cause. For fun, or for future business.

“That’s prized information.” Marjorie purred, taking a step back, and out of dark Hulk’s reach. Dark Hulk groaned and smiled at her, and then turned his attention to Elle.

“Hey, gorgeous, what’s your friend’s name?” He turned to Elle, tilting his head slightly. Tall blondy let out a quiet, scoffing laugh. Elle’s eyes flickered to him, and they locked in for a moment. Tall blondy had nice eyes. More than nice. They were blue, bright and clear, with laugh lines at the corners. Elle always thought that was a good sign. Laugh lines. Happy people always interested her. Truly happy people.

“You’ve got to work for that, bub.” Elle said with a sly smile, turning her attention back to the dark Hulk.

“Drinks? Let me guess. Dirty martinis.” Dark Hulk said gruffly, and turned around to order the drinks before the girls could even answer. Marjorie winked at Elle, who rolled her eyes with a smile. They’d done this before. Countless times. Men were so predictable.

“Guys, I’ve got to run. The old ball-and-chain is calling.” The third guy, on his phone, sat up and then quickly did a round of hand shakes and straight guy back patting before giving Marjorie and Elle the once over, and making his way out of the bar.

Marjorie sat down on one of the barstools, and Elle remained standing, next to her.

“You guys look familiar.” Marjorie crossed one leg over the other and ran a hand through her blond curls. Dark Hulk set a martini down in front of her, and then one in front of Elle as well. Elle smiled, but didn’t drink it. She wasn’t much of a drinker, especially liquor. She found that she’d rather stay totally alert, ever vigilant to her company and surroundings. It had helped her in the past.

“Tell me your name, babe, and I’ll tell you why you recognize us.” Dark Hulk slid between Elle and Marjorie, cutting Elle off from her friend slightly, and leaving her wedged between him and tall blondy.

“He comes on a bit strong.” Tall blondy leaned down, whispered in a conspiratorial voice. Elle turned to him then, taking him in up close. He was handsome. Definitely good looking. If she had a type, he might be it.

“You think?” She quipped but offered up a small smile.

“My name’s Marjorie. That’s Elle.” Marjorie said, leaning forward over the bar and gesturing to Elle. Elle turned back, so the four of them could chat.

“Sexy. Nice.” Dark Hulk approved. Tall blondy didn’t say anything.

“So? Why do you look so familiar?” Marjorie asked, tossing back her drink. Elle looked at her own martini, playing with the toothpick of olives, but not drinking it. She felt tall blondy watching her, but she didn’t look at him.

“I’m a director. He’s an actor.” Dark Hulk said with a satisfied grunt. Elle shifted, feeling like she was standing way too close to him. A bit too much testosterone oozing off of him. Marjorie didn’t seem to mind.

“Anything we’d know?” Elle asked. She was pretty detached from the world of celebrity and fame. She didn’t often have time for it. Occasionally, a client would request to watch a movie or go to the theater, but it wasn’t often.

“Hell yeah. I just won a Globe for my last one. I’m Eddie Porter.” Dark Hulk, or…Eddie, puffed up his already large chest. He waited, as if knowing his name should strike some recognition. Tall blondy smiled and didn’t say anything. Marjorie let out a high pitched sigh, and started giggling, which made Elle frown. Marjorie had this in the bag, Elle wasn’t sure why she was working so hard for it. Maybe it was the entertainment business connection. Elle knew that Marjorie had some far fetched dreams of acting, but Marjorie also wanted to be a zoo biologist, a Broadway star, a clothing designer and a fitness instructor when she “grew up.”

“Eddie, nice to meet you.” Marjorie slid her slender hand forward, her deep red fingernails matching her dress. Eddie took her hand, engulfing it with his large, mitt like one and then pressed a kiss to the back of it. Marjorie shifted, arching her back slightly as he did, bringing her cleavage forward more as he was eye level with her chest.

“So Eddie is the director, and you’re the actor, Mr…” Elle turned to tall blondy, giving him a rather obvious, lingering once over. She wasn’t in the mood for the game, but she could play a little bit. It was no fun just to be a spectator. He watched her, lazily and then his mouth moved into a slow, knowing smile.

“Hiddleston. Tom.” He pushed out one of his big, capable hands. Elle offered her own much smaller one. He didn’t kiss her hand like Eddie had done for Marjorie, but simply covered her hand with both his and pressed gently. His hands were warm, strangely comforting. Elle smiled and gently pulled her hands away.

“Pleasure to meet you, Elle.” He drawled out, and for the first time, Elle picked up on an accent. She raised an eyebrow, suddenly finding tall blondy a tad bit more interesting. Definitely British. Definitely charming.

“Pleasures all mine, Mr. Hiddleston.” She murmured. Tom flashed her a smile then, and then they both turned back to Eddie and Marjorie. Elle felt overly aware of Tom standing next to her. His presence, the space he took up. She shifted where she stood and then took a gulp of the drink in front of her. She needed it.

“Care to sit?” Tom asked softly, pulling a chair out for her. Elle shook her head abruptly.

“No, thank you. I can’t stay for long.” She gave him a brief smile, before glancing back at her friend. Marjorie had one hand on Eddie’s bicep, and was leaning heavily against his arm. Eddie only had eyes for her blond friend, that much was obvious.

“Hmm, that’s a shame.” Tom’s voice was like velvet, and the way he purred out his last sentence made Elle shoot him a look. His approach was much different than his friend’s, but it was effective nonetheless. She appreciated his more subtle style, as it matched her own.

“So what are two gorgeous ladies like yourselves doing out alone on a night like tonight?” Eddie asked, tossing back his drink. Elle glanced at what he was drinking. Tequila. Good tequila, but tequila nonetheless. Never a really good sign. She glanced over to what Tom was holding, and recognized it easily as whisky.

“Who said we were alone?” Marjorie teased. She sipped on her martini and widened her eyes ever so slightly at Elle, excited.

“Mmm, don’t tell me you’re taken. Hell, even if you are, I could change that by the end of the night.” Eddie chuckled and then clinked his glass against Tom’s, reaching across Elle. As Eddie reached, his forearm brushed across her chest. He made it look like an accident, but Elle wasn’t naïve. She cleared her throat, taking a step back.

“Sorry, darling. I don’t know my own size sometimes.” Eddie said, his gaze scanning her quickly, lingering on her chest. Elle clenched her jaw and didn’t react, or respond. Sometimes it was best not to.

“Eddie, tell me about the movies you make. I’ve never met a celebrity.” Marjorie broke in, bringing the attention back to her. Elle took a deep breath and glanced at the clock on the far wall. It was getting late, close to last call for the bar. She’d stay for a few more minutes to make sure Marjorie was safe. Even though they did this often, and Marjorie definitely had things under control, this guy, Eddie, gave Elle the creeps.

“We’ve been working on a trilogy of movies— _Brighton’s Case_ , heard of them? Crime drama. This guy right here, he’s starred in all of them. I made him who he is, isn’t that right, Hiddleston?” Eddie reached over and smacked Tom on the back. Tom gave a good natured laugh, shrugging his shoulders in acceptance.

“Eddie knows how to make a film, that’s for sure.” Tom nodded. He gave Elle a look then, which had her intrigued. It was a mixture between apology, and…something else she couldn’t quite put her thumb on. Embarrassment? Modesty? She lingered on Tom for a second, before Eddie’s commanding voice broke through her thoughts.

“We’re about to start a pretty intense press tour. We’ve been on the go for years, right man? No rest for the wicked.” Eddie grinned at Tom, obviously proud of their lifestyle.

“That must be a demanding job. Always moving. You must get real tired.” Marjorie cooed, sliding up and pressing herself nearly flat against Eddie’s big side. Eddie put an arm around Marjorie, his hand resting on her lower back, just above her ass. Elle rolled her eyes, wondering how Marjorie gave such macho losers like Eddie the time of day. To each their own, she supposed. Her dating record was no better.

“We do. We’ve been in, what? A new goddamn country or state or continent every week it seems for the past few years.” Eddie grunted.

“We keep busy.” Tom interjected.

“Don’t you get lonely?” Marjorie asked, batting her eyes at Eddie. Elle glanced at Tom, who was watching Marjorie work. He had such a fake, somewhat horrified smile on his face that it nearly made Elle burst into laughter. It was like watching a snaked trying to devour a prey a few times it’s own size. Unhinging it’s jaw…

“Baby, don’t you know it.” Eddie said, moving his hand down to Marjorie’s ass. Elle took a deep breath, glanced at the clock again. Three minutes had passed.

“What about you? Lonely life?” She turned to Tom, throwing him a bone. He shrugged.

“Sometimes, sure. I’m never in one place for long. I can’t keep committed as some women might like. My priorities right now lie with my job. Not everyone understands that.” He said, speaking the most since they’d gotten there. Elle nodded, a bit mesmerized by his mouth as he spoke. She blinked and took a gulp of her drink, wincing as the alcohol burned on the way down, then lit a small fire in her stomach.

“And when you’re famous, you can’t just fuck anybody.” Eddie piped. Elle raised an eyebrow as Marjorie laughed, full and throaty. In no way was Elle expecting men to be coy and demure around her, but she spent most of her time around rather rigid, formal business men. Eddie’s casual language was brusque, to say the least.

“What do you mean?” Elle asked with a polite smile, through clenched teeth. Tom sighed softly, and then pursed his mouth briefly, waiting for Eddie to answer her question.

“You fuck the wrong girl, she goes to the media, tells them all your kinks, and how you like it rough or what kinda porn you want on while you do it. Or she gets attached and won’t leave you alone. Stalker shit. There’s no privacy.” Eddie looked to Tom for support and Tom simply shrugged. It was less of a shrug and more of a slight movement of broad shoulders.

“That true?” Elle said softly to him, over her shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have put it that way.” Tom said with a tense chuckle. They both laughed quietly. “But, yeah. I don’t have much to offer. Relationships right now are out of the question. And being just friends with, um…benefits, doesn’t always suit everyone.” He grinned and then nodded toward Elle’s empty glass. “Can I get you another, Elle?” He asked simply. Elle was quiet for a minute, but then shook her head slowly.

“No, thank you.”

“If you’re looking for privacy, Eddie, I’m really, really good at keeping secrets.” Marjorie said, chewing gently on her full red lip. She winked at Eddie, who seemed to be eating it up. Despite the fact that Eddie said he had trouble finding partners due to wariness about privacy, Elle had a feeling that it didn’t keep him from getting his share of willing women. Tom on the other hand, something about him made her think that he meant what he said.

“You ladies want to take this back to the hotel? Mr. Hiddleston and I are staying at the Marriott Marquis.” Eddie asked, sliding cash across the bar to pay for the bill. It was way more than needed, but he obviously didn’t mind. Marjorie had practically plastered herself to his muscular side, and was rubbing her hand suggestively up and down his back. She worked quickly.

“Absolutely.” Marjorie answered with a sly smile.

“We’ll catch up with you later, then.” Eddie winked at Tom and Elle, and turned to leave the bar, Marjorie on his arm.

“Marj.” Elle reached out, snagging her friend before she disappeared with this rather large, muscular stranger.

“It’s cool,” Marjorie whispered into Elle’s ear, giving her a hug. “I’ll text you in a bit. If I need anything, you’ll know.” Marjorie shrugged. Elle nodded and gave her friend a quick pat on the butt. They worked on the buddy system. Whether it was with a client, or in tonight’s case, for personal reasons. They always checked in with each other, they always double checked in time increments. They both had apps on their phones, that when launched, automatically alerted the other person that there was an issue. And they never went somewhere with a man without giving the details of the location.

Elle turned back around, glad that Marjorie had reached her goal for the night.

“He’s harmless, don’t worry.” Tom said, gesturing to the receding figures of Eddie and Marjorie as they left the bar, and went out into the city. Elle raised an arched eyebrow at him and waited.

“Not all that comforting coming from a stranger, I guess.” Tom said with a soft laugh, running a hand through his short hair. Elle smiled then.

“Not quite, but I appreciate you trying. I know she can take care of herself.” Elle said.

“Do you have somewhere to be, Elle? Or would you mind hanging out with me while I have another? Just conversation.” Tom said lightly, his blue eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiled. Elle tilted her head to the side, and then felt her resolve dissolve.

“Hmm, I could stay for a bit. You’re cute, why not.” She said gently, teasing. Tom laughed and then clapped his hands together softly.

“Cute. I’m no Eddie Porter. But I’m cute.” He grinned, and Elle couldn’t help but laugh.

“Eddie Porter isn’t everyone’s type, believe me.” She scoffed and Tom let out a hearty, solid laugh. They both sat down at the bar, and Tom ordered another whiskey, neat, and then ordered coffee for Elle.

“So how do you and Marjorie know each other?” Tom asked, sitting back in his chair. He looked more relaxed now that Eddie and Marjorie were gone. In fact, he looked almost like a different person. His wide shoulders weren’t as tense, he smiled more often. Elle was good at reading body language, and his had changed drastically. He sat, his body turned toward her, his knees splayed.

“We work together.” Elle said simply. Tom nodded, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Oookay.” He grinned, when he realized she wasn’t going to go farther than that. Elle laughed softly and nudged him with her elbow.

“We work in sales.” She added after a minute, and this seemed to appease him. Sometimes it was just easier not to divulge her career choice. Tonight, she decided, was one of the nights she’d rather not. It was always an interesting conversation, but usually tiresome. The same questions, the same change in their eyes—the way they looked at you, the way they regarded you. No, she didn’t feel like doing that tonight. Not with Tom.

“Ah, well that’s nice. Sounds stable, reliable.” He took a drink of his whisky, and Elle watched the way his throat moved as he did. He had nice throat, as weird as it was that she’d noticed. It was strong and just muscular enough. One vein made it’s way from his square, cut jaw down the column of his neck, disappearing by his clavicle. Elle swallowed and looked down at her mug of coffee.

“It’s a job.” She shrugged, finally finding herself able to speak. She turned the attention back to him. She was good at that. Excellent at it, even. She could make anyone open up. It was crucial to her job that she could do that. It was how she got return customers. How she made the good money.

“So you travel a lot? No girlfriend?” She asked, turning herself toward Tom. He smiled at her, his eyes sparkling even in the low light.

“I do travel a lot. Constantly. And no, no girlfriend. No one wants to put up with the lifestyle I have.” He shrugged, his smile still lingering. His eyes were fixed on her. In fact he seemed to do that often. Sort of lock in when he spoke. His focus entirely on Elle. She shifted, though she wasn’t uncomfortable. Not quite.

“You’re beautiful, you know. That’s not a line. You’re really stunning.” Tom said suddenly, his voice back to low and nearly velvety. Elle felt it, like something tangible, sliding down her neckline, over her belly and between her legs. Well.

“Thank you.” She demurred, surprised to feel a flush of heat rise to her cheeks. She didn’t blush. It took a lot to make her blush, as men spoke in poetry and platitudes to her often. But Tom had taken her completely by surprise with his remark. She hadn’t been expecting it at all.

“I’m not having sex with you.” She said quickly, raising her eyes to meet his. Tom coughed, nearly choking on the whisky he’d just gulped.

“Thanks for the heads up.” He said with a short laugh. Elle sighed and tilted her head.

“Sorry, that was…rude of me.” She felt bad then. He seemed like a nice guy. An honestly nice person. But she didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. Maybe she didn’t want to give herself the wrong idea. After the last two disastrous weeks with John, she was pretty sure any personal relationships were off her radar for a good, long time.

“It’s alright. I like your honesty.” Tom rubbed a hand over his mouth and jaw, and she could see the hint of the smile on his lips.

“Sorry.” She said again. “It’s just…I have a boyfriend.” She said, speaking before her brain had quite caught up. For some silly reason she felt the need to have a reason why. A reason why she couldn’t take him home, and ravage him all night long. It was sort of what she wanted, or at least what her thighs wanted. Too many complications though.

“Ah. Well, he’s a lucky man. I hope he knows that.” Tom said and gave her a warm smile. Elle took a deep breath and nodded, brushed her blond hair at her shoulders.

“Thanks. You’re sweet.” She said softly.

Tom groaned and sat back. “Cute and sweet. You’re killing me.” He chuckled. Elle smiled, her eyes grazing over his handsome features. Goodness, he was good looking. Tall, strong, lean. Chiseled in every sense of the word. But he had that warm bright smile, and those ocean blue eyes. He was trouble. Trouble she desperately wanted to get into.

“I’ve got to go.” Elle stood up then, a bit abruptly, knocking the barstool back a few inches as she did.

“Ah, okay.” Tom said, somewhat startled by her abrupt dismissal. He stood as well, coming to his full height as he did. He towered over her. She felt the need to step back, and not be so close, but she didn’t, forcing herself to stay put. Tom didn’t move either.

“How tall are you?” Elle blurted out. Tom looked down at her for a moment, the top of her head barely coming to his chin even though she was wearing heels.

“6’2”.” He said, his eyes lowered on her. Elle looked up, swallowed hard.

“Tall. That’s…you’re tall, then. Alright. Good night.” She stumbled over her words, suddenly feeling ridiculous. When was the last time she’d been tongue tied around a man? Perhaps never. She attributed it to a rather long, taxing date with a client, a rather sleepless few nights because of John, and the vodka she’d just consumed. Yes, that made sense.

“Goodnight, Elle.” He said softly, looking down at her. “Can I get you a cab home? I want to make sure you get home safely.” He asked. Elle shook her head quickly, a little too hard, and felt her blond hair swing around her face.

“Nope. No, thank you. I’m good. Thanks.” She took a few steps then, toward the door of the bar. But something pulled her back. Maybe it was that voice. Like velvet, smooth and dangerous like a really good single malt. Or maybe it was his quiet, easy confidence. It couldn’t be his eyes—light blue, icy in color but deep in warmth. Ok, maybe it was his eyes.

“Oh, fuck it.” Elle muttered under her breath, turned around quickly and took a few determined steps toward Tom. He looked surprised, just a split second, before Elle reached up, tugged him down to her and kissed him, deeply.

He tasted like whiskey, sweet, spicy. He smelled just as good—clean and sweet in a masculine way. Pheromones. She missed those. When two people with the right chemistry mixed together, it was absolutely intoxicating.

They had the right chemistry. It wasn’t always the case. Sometimes a person just smelled like a person…skin, clothes, sweat. But no, Tom…Tom had it right. Clean linen, musky spicy aftershave, and something there, just beneath the surface that was hard to put your finger on. It was like soft skin sliding against soft skin, breathless sighs, aching thighs, fists clenched in sheets…

He kissed her hesitantly for a split second, surprised by her sudden turn around. Elle wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on tip toe to reach him. It didn’t take him long to realize what was happening, and before long he had his arms wrapped around her, his hands at her waist and then brushing up the length of her neck. Elle pushed her hands into his hair, and let herself taste his mouth and absorb the way he felt against her. Ah, it was nice. Mutual desire. Something that couldn’t be forced or set up or negotiated.

The kiss may have lasted a few seconds or a few minutes, Elle wasn’t quite sure. But it was over far too soon for her liking, and when they pulled away from each other, both slightly out of breath, Tom leaned down, his forehead settled against hers. Elle didn’t want to meet his eyes. She couldn’t afford to, not at that very second. She gave herself three seconds to pull it together, to chastise herself for losing herself, even in the smallest bit.

“Thanks for that.” She whispered.

“Yeah. Uhm, anytime.” Tom replied, his voice rough.

“Well…goodnight.” She felt her common sense kick quickly back in as she extricated herself from his arms, and slipped away. She took one last look at him, at his handsome, if not slightly confused face, and his long, graceful fingers. Oh.

“Wait…I—“ He started talking again, but Elle was already gone. She quickly pushed through the small crowd that stood between her and the door, and then slipped out the door, and into the city night.


	3. Chapter 2

Elle was going to be late if she didn’t leave soon. She needed fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant, and she knew that Gregory would be angry if she was late. She quickly finished signing a check, sealing it into an envelope and slipping it into her handbag before taking one last glance in the mirror.

She wore her long, blond wig tonight. Gregory only liked blonds. It went well with her dress—short, tight and sexy, as he had requested. It was cobalt blue, which went well with her green eyes, and had a very low back, that exposed bare skin all the way down to her lower back. She slipped on her gold, ankle strap Manolos and made her way to leave, not before checking her phone.

Her agency had sent the confirmation email, letting her know that her appointment for that night had been paid for, in full. She never left for a date unless she got the email from her agency. The agency knew where she was going, how long she would be there, and pretty much every other detail that had been arranged by the client. These safety precautions were crucial, and they usually worked. Usually.

Since Marjorie worked for the same agency, the two women also contacted each other as a back up. Last night, after arriving at Eddie’s hotel room, Marjorie had sent Elle a text with the hotel and room number. It may have been a personal hook up, but both women knew you could never be too cautious. Marjorie had later followed it up with a text detailing the fantastic shag they’d had, and that she was safely home. Elle had been happy for her friend, and had also been thankful for her own empty bed. She needed some time off.

Elle tucked her phone into her bag, and took a deep breath. Nerves raced through her. It didn’t matter how many times she had done this. It didn’t matter that she’d been in the business for two years, and working as an escort for six months. It never really got easier. But life wasn’t about being easy. Life was about surviving. And in order to survive, you needed to make money.

Elle double checked to make sure she had all her things. The client had booked her for the whole night, but that simply meant she’d most likely be back home by five or six a.m. at the latest. If Gregory was particularly tired or fast, then she could be home by one or two. It all depended on his mood. Thankfully, it was her last date with him, unless he set up something else. His personality and style had left a lot to be desired.

Glancing at the time, Elle groaned, knowing she only had about ten minutes now to get a cab and make her way to the Charity Event. She moved as fast as her five inch heels would allow her, opening the door to her small apartment and nearly running smack into someone standing in the hallway.

“Ouch!” The man groaned, as Elle trampled on his feet. Elle stumbled back, and then let out an audible groan.

“John. What are you doing here? I told you two nights ago. We’re over.” She closed her apartment door behind her, and started to try and brush by John. She didn’t have time for theatrics. They’d had a brief, heated relationship, but John hadn’t been able to accept her lifestyle. Not many men could. In fact, she’d yet to meet one.

“I miss you, babe.” John lurched after her, obviously drunk. Elle shook her head, and tried again to move past him, before he grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her against him.

“Stop. It’s over, John. You can’t deal with my job.” She said, in a hushed, even tone. She searched his face, wondering if anything was getting through to him. His eyes were slightly glassy, his cheeks reddened by the alcohol. He smelled like beer, like hops and rancid sweat. Elle clenched her jaw, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. He had her arm in a tight grip, and gave no signs of letting go.

She’d met John in a bar. Not a great place to meet people, but she’d given him a chance. It had been one of those rare, lonely nights for her and she’d given in to that weakness. It had been a bad call. After a few weeks of casual dating, a few nice nights out, and a handful of passionate encounters, it had come to a halting stop when John had asked her to quit her job and be a “secretary or something not so slutty.” Good try.

“Is that where you’re off to? Dressed like that? Who are you meeting?” John sneered, his brown eyes trying to focus on Elle’s face. He was so far gone. Wasted. She tried to pull away, but he dragged her closer, his hot breath on her face.

“You wouldn’t know him. He has money.” Elle quipped, her voice biting as she yanked her arm from his grip. John let go, cursing at her as he did.

He shoved her angrily against the hallway wall, and Elle braced herself. It wouldn’t be the first time a man hit her, and sadly probably not the last. At least she knew how to deflect most of it, and if she was quick enough, she could duck out of the way of his clumsy fists.

“Fuck you, Elle.” John lunged at her, and Elle gasped finding her escape in the narrow space he made in the hallway as he moved. He managed to make contact with her upper arm, grabbing at her, his fingers bruising as he did. But Elle was faster than he was, especially considering she hadn’t been drinking all night like John had. She made it past him, and then ran down the hall and out the door onto the street.

She didn’t look back, didn’t bother to see if he followed her. She simply flagged down the first cab she saw, and jumped in, slamming the door behind her. She was going to need to ask one of the agency’s hired muscles to go pay John a little visit. He wasn’t a client, and she didn’t like doing that, but she also couldn’t have him angrily stalking her. They’d just shake him up a bit, nothing too violent. Just a warning to leave her alone.

Elle took a deep breath as she sat back, trying to find her composure. This was why she didn’t date. Men couldn’t handle it. And to be honest, not even a nice, comforting warm body to sleep next to at night was enough of an incentive for her to quit her job. The money was too good. She’d tried other routes. Nothing compared.

The drive to the restaurant was short, and traffic was surprisingly forgiving. Sometimes on dates, she would be picked up by a limo service, if the client offered it. Gregory had not offered it, despite being more than wealthy enough to afford it. Elle didn’t mind too much. It gave her a few extra minutes to collect her thoughts.  

She paid the cab, and then quickly made her way to the building. She was familiar with the restaurant. It was a upscale, and one that many of her clients favored. The food was amazing, the atmosphere dark and private. She didn’t mind at all that she’d be spending the evening there.

On her way into the building, she paused, seeing a steel blue USPS box on the corner of the street. She walked over, and pulled the envelope she’d put in her purse before leaving her apartment. It was addressed to her sister, who lived in Kentucky. Hesitating for a minute, Elle quickly dropped it in the big metal box and then turned back to the restaurant. She was already five minutes late, thanks to John’s tantrum.

“You’re late.” The voice came from behind her, and Elle spun quickly. Gregory sat in a long, sleek black limousine. He had the tinted window rolled down, as he gave her the once over. His dark charcoal hair curled at the sides, and Elle noticed he was wearing a tux. _Maybe if you’d sent that limo for me, I wouldn’t be late._ Elle thought, annoyed.

“I’m sorry, Gregory. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” She slid on her smile she reserved for clients—friendly, mischievous, a bit reserved. She’d practiced it in the mirror, faking it until she even convinced herself she was happy.

“Get in.” He said abruptly, and then the dark window rolled up, leaving Elle with nothing but her own somewhat surprised reflection. She pressed her lips together, and then reached for the handle.

The inside of the limo was smoky, and she coughed softly as she got in. The cigar smoke was fragrant, and made her stomach roll slightly with its pungency. It was a large limo—the sort reserved for big parties. But it was just the two of them inside. Gregory sat at the far end. He had a lit cigar in one hand, and a drink in the other.

“Good evening.” Elle smiled and sat down across from him.

“Drink?” Gregory asked, taking a sip of his own. Elle nodded.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Champagne?” He offered, pouring her a glass before she could answer. Elle nodded without replying, accepting the bubbly amber liquid. One thing she had learned quite a long time ago—even when clients asked what she wanted, whether it be drink preference or in bed, they were never really asking. They just wanted her to say what they wanted to hear. So Elle got used to being told what she wanted. It was annoying, infuriating at times, but she wasn’t exactly paid to have an opinion or a true preference.

“Aren’t we going to be late?” She asked, taking a swallow of the sweet liquid. Gregory raised an eyebrow at her, and then motioned for her to sit next to him. Elle did, moving as gracefully as she could across the limo, sliding against the leather to sit next to this man who was old enough to be her father.

“Fashionably late. You look so sexy tonight, Elle. Your hair is perfect.” He smiled at her—his version of a smile, his warm, dry hand coming down on her thigh.

“Thank you.” She responded.

“Did you follow my directions?” Gregory blinked, and Elle felt his hand slide up her thigh. His hand pressed between her legs, finding her bare, as he’d directed her. She quickly drank the rest of the champagne, and then poured herself another glass.

She gulped down that glass, and then answered. “Of course.”

“Good girl. Get on your knees, then.” He commanded, reaching for his fly.

Elle felt her stomach lurch. It wasn’t easy. It never got easier. And she’d need at least a bottle of the champagne to make any difference, so she braced herself, felt something inside her turn to icy steel, and then she did as she was told.

 

 ****

 

Twenty minutes later, inside the restaurant bathroom, Elle stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. Gregory was in the restaurant, mingling with guests at the charity benefit, eating appetizers and drinking free alcohol, and Elle was in the bathroom, trying to get herself together.

It had been a rough twenty minutes. For an older man, Gregory lacked finesse of any kind. Elle still felt her heart thumping hard against her ribs, as she tried to reapply her lipstick with a shaky hand. Her hands always shook after, even if it hadn’t been particularly bad. It was just like her body knew something she didn’t.

She pressed her lips together, blotting with a brown paper towel, before checking her wig. The long blond hair had been tugged and grabbed rather forcefully, and it showed. She ran a comb through it, and then spritzed on a bit of perfume before giving herself a once over. She looked fine. Pretty, even. But she felt jittery, and she was ready for the night to be over even though it had just begun. Elle paused at the mirror, forced a smile and then quickly turned and left the bathroom.

She found Gregory quickly, standing amongst a group of men, all dressed similarly to him. Elle smiled briefly at him as she walked up, sliding next to him. He put an arm around her, giving her a tight squeeze and a surprisingly warm smile, as if he hadn’t just defiled her the limo.

“Gents, this is my date, Elle Amore. Elle, these are some of my business partners.” Gregory smiled, introducing her to all the faceless, nameless people she would forget in mere instants. She smiled, and played along as she knew how to do so well. This part was easy. She could schmooze her way around all night long. Since Gregory was treating her as if she was really his date, perhaps the night wouldn’t be too bad. As in most cases, she was sure he didn’t want his associates to know he had to pay her to be there.

Time ticked by slowly. She found her mind wandering, though she did her best to be attentive and engaging. She made sure Gregory always had a drink. She made small talk when needed, though she knew she was there more for looks than conversation. This was one of the tougher clients she’d had in a long time. She found nothing appealing about Gregory and his rather abrupt, rude and often unkind demeanor.

“Babe, get me a drink. Scotch on the rocks.” Gregory barked, thrusting an empty glass toward her. He turned, and grabbed her elbow without a smile. He squeezed, making her wince, as he was grabbing her in the exact same place John had grabbed her only a few hours earlier. He seemed to realize he was hurting her, and he let go quickly. Elle nodded, thankful to be able to have a moment alone.

“Sure thing.” She said, slipping away from the crowd of suits. Although the event was advertised as a charity event, it was more of a fundraiser. Multiple companies vying for the attention of local vendors, and businessmen. Fascinating.

Elle walked over to the bar, checking the time as she did. It was getting close to midnight, and she wondered if she could just turn into a pumpkin to get out of this date.   She stood, rather agitated, at the bar for a few minutes, trying to track down the bartender who seemed set on ignoring her.

Elle felt a swell of emotions sitting like rocks in her chest and throat. It was rare that she got emotional. Especially on a job. But the last few weeks had been tough, and she somehow doubted they’d get any better tonight. She suddenly had visions of remote tropical islands, sunshine and a fruity drink. If only.

“Your hair grows remarkably fast.” A voice broke through her thoughts, a very distinctive voice, and Elle flipped around quickly, surprised.

“You!” She came face to face with Tom, the tall blondy. He was still tall. Still blond. He wore a suit tonight—a rather nice one, though it was simple and black, with a dark tie and a white shirt. He smiled, his whole face changing as he did. Elle felt it in her gut, and had a sudden flashback of the kiss she’d stolen last night. Oops.

“You’ve got to tell me your secret, I’ve been trying to grow mine out for ages.” He joked, reaching up and running a hand through his sandy hair. Elle smiled then, the first real smile she’d felt all night.

“It’s…it’s a wig.” She stuttered. Elle reached up, suddenly feeling self conscious. Tom tilted his head, and a slow smile slid onto his face.

“I gathered that.” He said gently. She lifted her eyes to him and then grinned, turning back to the bar.

“Are you stalking me? Should I be worried?” She threw over her shoulder, still waiting for the bartender.

“Maybe our memories differ, but I’m pretty sure you’re the one who snogged me last night and then ran off. If anyone was going to stalk someone—“ Tom leaned against the bar next to her, and Elle looked down, trying to push away the smile she felt. What was tall bondy doing here? She had never expected to see him again, and here he was, less than 24 hours later.

“Touche.” She smirked.

“Can I help you, sir?” The bartender walked over, asking Tom without so much as a glance at Elle. Elle pursed her lips and turned to Tom, glaring at him.

“I believe the lady was here first.” Tom said pointedly. The bartender blinked and then turned an unfriendly eye to Elle.

“What can I get you?”

“Scotch on the rocks, please. And a vodka cranberry.” She stated, her voice clipped. She felt Tom looking at her, and when she dared a glance, she saw his quizzical look.

“I thought you didn’t drink, but you’re over here, double fisting liquor.” He quipped.

“Not all for me, one’s for my—“ Elle started, before she was interrupted.

“Elle, what’s the hold up?” Gregory’s voice was stern, like a father scolding a child. Elle took a deep breath and held it in. “Who’s your friend?” Gregory came up behind her, putting a hand on her hip. He squeezed and Elle tried not to wince. Tom looked surprised at Gregory and then at Elle. With a frown, he mouthed the words “That’s your boyfriend?” to Elle.

“Oh, Gregory. This is just an acquaintance, Tom Hiddleston. Tom, this is my date, Gregory Jacks.” She introduced the two men, and immediately felt the air thicken. Gregory eyed Tom with a wary eye, but still shook his hand. She wanted to groan and roll her eyes, throw her hands up in exasperation. She was Gregory’s for the night. He’d bought her time. And yet, he still felt threatened by Tom. They had a damn contract, and yet she could practically feel Gregory’s territorial alarms going off.

“Nice to meet you, Gregory.” Tom said, his voice friendly.

“You too. I know your work.” Gregory replied, his voice cold. Elle could tell Tom wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that since it wasn’t quite a compliment, but more of a statement.

“Yes…” Tom glanced at Elle and shrugged, as Gregory nodded, and turned to the bar to collect his scotch.

“Are you kidding?” Tom mouthed, his eyes wide. Elle jutted her chin out at him and rolled her eyes.

“Shut up!” She mouthed back.

Gregory turned back around, his hand sliding down to her ass.

“Well, Elle, we’re going to leave in about twenty minutes.” He muttered, his hand still fondling her. She nodded and gave him a quick smile. Tom shifted, ignoring the obvious brush off.

“Sure.”

“Meet me in the bathroom in three minutes.” Gregory whispered, leaned down and brushed his mouth against her ear, his breath hot and moist. She fought off shivering, and clenched her hands at her side. He smelled like scotch, and she knew he was drunk, which would make things all the more repugnant.

“Or we could just leave now, and go back to your place, honey.” She cooed, trying to find a better solution than having this sweaty, bumbling man try to fuck her in a restaurant bathroom. Ugh. She could feel Tom watching them, but there wasn’t much she could do.

“No. Now. Bathroom.” He grabbed her arm, and she visibly flinched, as it was the third or fourth time that night someone had grabbed her in that same place. Tom must have noticed, because he took a fast step forward.

“Hey, hey, mate.” Tom jumped in. Elle flushed, realizing how badly this could go. She felt Gregory drop his hand from her, and she raised her hands up, gesturing for Tom to back off.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. We’re good.” She shook her head at Tom, who was watching her with wary eyes.

“I paid for all the fucking I wanted, so you’re going to give it to me. I bought you for the night.” Gregory said, his voice raised to a level now that made Elle freeze. He’d been loud enough that Tom had definitely heard, if not other people standing nearby. Tom had stopped moving, and was just standing, stock still, waiting. It wasn’t that she felt the need to hide her job, but she didn’t necessarily need it broadcasted to the entire room. Elle felt nauseated, and rather humiliated as well.

Despite common misconceptions, she was not usually treated so poorly by clients.

“I’ll be leaving now, thank you.” She found her voice, and her backbone, and moved to walk away.

“What?” Gregory said, his voice getting angrier.

Elle turned around, quickly, and pressed a hand to his chest, raising to her tiptoes so she could whisper into his ear. “Listen, Mr. Jacks. You may have ‘bought me’, but I don’t belong to you. Our date is over, as is any future engagements. Please contact the agency for a refund.” She had never backed out of a date before, not like this, and she felt her insides start to shake a bit as the words left her mouth.

“Bitch.” Gregory’s response wasn’t all that surprising, or original, but he said it rather loudly. Elle shook her head, and turned away from him, while Tom sprang forward, looking furious.

“Watch your mouth.” Tom stepped up toward Gregory, his look stern and unforgiving.

“No. Nope.” Elle groaned, shaking her head as she grabbed Tom by the arm, and then yanked firmly. Surprisingly, he came along after only a moment of resistance, before the drunk, and somewhat idiotic Gregory could make sense of everything happening.

“Don’t worry about him, please. I’m leaving.” Elle warned to Tom, walking away.

“I’m right behind you.” Tom said with a grunt.

“Fucking whore.” Gregory scowled. Tom groaned with annoyed exasperation, rolled his eyes and then turned around, punching Gregory squarely in the jaw, sending him sprawling backward. He landed with a loud thunk, and the whole room exploded in gasps and exclamations.

“Bloody hell. Shit.” Tom groaned, holding his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He turned to Elle, who was frozen, shocked. Tom raised his hands up, backing up as Elle felt her eyes get big as saucers.

“I told him to watch his mouth. I warned him. Who does that prick think he is, talking to you like that?” Tom said breathlessly. Elle looked at Tom, letting out a surprised laugh. People were beginning to talk, and Gregory was still groaning on the floor, leveled by his drunkenness and the punch to the face he’d taken rather inelegantly.

Tom shrugged, and then held out his uninjured hand to Elle.

“We should…go.” He said softly, with a quick glance around. People were beginning to gather. Elle swallowed hard and then put her hand in his, and let him lead the way out of the restaurant, breaking into a run as they got close to the door.


	4. Chapter 3

They kept running, despite the fact that no one was chasing them. It may have been the adrenaline that was pumping through Elle, Tom was no doubt feeling the same thing. They were laughing in a giddy way as they ran down the nearly empty sidewalks, neither of them knowing where they were going. Elle was breathless after a block or two, but Tom didn’t seem effected. They kept giggling, bumping into each other as they jogged down the city streets.

They didn’t stop until Elle stumbled on the uneven pavement, and grabbed onto Tom’s arm to steady herself.

“Careful, girl.” He said through gasping laughter. “God, I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” Tom stopped, steadying her with a sure hand. Elle breathed out heavily, pushing her long hair from her face.

“Yes. I’m starving.” She nodded.

“Congratulations on running in those heels, by the way. You deserve a medal.” He grinned, and then held out an arm.

“I’m a professional.” She lifted a shoulder and smiled at him. He grinned back, and then turned and gestured to a 24 hour diner that was just across the street. It’s neon sign lit up the street, bouncing green and red off of every reflective surface.

“You look far too classy for a dive like that, but would you be willing to indulge me?” He asked with a tilt of his head. Elle looked up at him, his cheeks pink from exertion, his eyes glittering good naturedly. They were both overdressed, but it didn’t really matter.

She nodded. “I’d kill for some fries. Let’s go.” She said, despite her better judgment.

They walked in silence across the street and into the diner, where they were sat in a booth toward the back of the tin can shaped building. Tom slid into the booth, and almost immediately started fiddling with tiny creamer cups and sugar packets. Elle watched him for a moment, not sure if he was nervous or just energetic. Perhaps both.

The waitress came over, and begrudgingly took their orders. She looked the sort who would rather be anywhere else than serving them scalding hot coffee and greasy cheeseburgers. Elle also asked for a bag of ice for Tom’s hand, which was bleeding slightly, and starting to turn magnificent shades of purple.

Tom leaned forward on his elbows, wrapping one big hand around his mug, the other hand, with the bruised knuckles, lying gently on the table top. They were both quiet for a minute, watching each other as neither of them spoke. The last half hour ran over and over in Elle’s mind.

“Was that your boyfriend?” He said suddenly, his voice low and amused. “Tell me it wasn’t your boyfriend.” Tom pleaded. Elle grimaced and sat back, feeling the vinyl seat cool against the bare skin of her back.

“He’s…no. Not my boyfriend. Just my date.” She said quickly, taking a gulp of her coffee. Tom was drinking his black, but she had managed to dump three creamers and four sugars into hers. He’d watched her do it with incredulous amusement, shaking his head.

The waitress stopped by, dropping a stack of paper towels and a bag of ice on the table for Tom.

“Thanks.” He nodded at her, and then turned his attention back to Elle. “Come on, you’ve got to give me more than that. You said last night you had a boyfriend. Or was that just a lie, to get the creepy British guy to leave you alone?” Tom said with an apologetic smile. Elle grinned and reached over the table, putting a few paper towels over his hand and setting the bag of ice gently on top. Her fingertips brushed his wrist as she moved her hand away. His skin was soft and warm.

“Not creepy. And I kissed _you_ , remember that?” She looked at him through lowered lashes. He smiled and nodded, looking down at his hand. The moment was sweet and simple and it made Elle take a deep breath and sit back.

“I do remember that. I also remember you running out. So, do I get any explanation? For last night and tonight?” He reached up, loosening the tie at his neck, and then gingerly started to take off his suit jacket. Elle moved to help him, but Tom shook his head, and winced softly as he shrugged the jacket off his broad shoulders.

“Maybe not.” Elle sighed. “You know, I was doing fine before you jumped in and white knighted me. Now I’m going to have hell to deal with at the agency.“ She was teasing, but there was truth to the statement.

“White knighted…agency…?” Tom raised an eyebrow. The waitress came back with their food, and they both took a minute to get sorted. Tom put ketchup on his fries, and handed the bottle to Elle with a surprising familiarity. Comfortable, easy, as if they had done this hundreds of times before. Elle smiled and passed him the salt and pepper.

“I’m an escort.”

Tom nearly choked on the french fry he’d just put in his mouth. “An escort. What does…you’re going to have to spell that out for me, darling. I feel as if I’ve been knocked on the head as well.” He blinked at her, his ocean blue eyes a bit stormy for the moment.

“An escort. A companion. A…prostitute.” Elle gave him a big, wide smile hoping to soften the blow and then took a bite of her burger. Some men took this conversation well, others not so much. She wasn’t sure what category Tom was going to fall in.

“You’re…no. Listen, if this is all some elaborate thing so that I’ll leave you alone…I’m sorry. I can leave now.” He gestured toward the door, making a half hearted attempt to get up. Elle narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head slowly. “I’m just a little confused because you did kiss me last night, and—“

“I’m not lying. And it was a kiss, not a marriage proposal, Thomas.” She smiled slowly and Tom managed to laugh. “If you want it bluntly… I’m a whore, Tom. I have sex with men for money. Well, not always sex, but usually sex. That guy you punched was my client for tonight. He was paying fifteen hundred dollars to have me for the night.”

“I’m…” Tom blinked, a fry in his hand but not making it anywhere closer to his mouth. “I don’t often get speechless, but I don’t know what to say. I’m genuinely…speechless.”

“Good, don’t say anything. I should get you cleaned up, and then I should leave. I need to call my agency, and figure this all out, because now I’m out fifteen hundred dollars.” Elle grumbled, taking another few bites of her late dinner. Tom blinked and then put the fry in his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully.

“Fifteen hundred dollars. You were going to make that much tonight?” He asked finally, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Well, no. More like seven fifty. The agency takes 50%.” Elle paused at his reaction. “Don’t look so shocked, it’s standard practice.” She was surprised how well he was taking this.

“Why the bloody hell do they get 50%? Aren’t you the one doing all the…hard work, pardon the pun.” He held the ice on his hand and sat back, still looking a bit shocked. Elle raised an eyebrow at him but then smiled.

“Yes, but they screen the clients. They are a reputable agency, so they have a steady supply of wealthy clients. Men who have been regulars and proven to be safe, non violent. They set up my appointments, and they monitor things while they happen. I contact them when it’s over, and they know something is wrong if I don’t call within a certain amount of time. If I’m in any trouble, I can call or alert them via an app on my phone, and there will be someone there to help within minutes.” Elle said all this easily, as she’d explained it quite regularly. Clients were often curious, and on the rare occasion she explained to a friend, she had worked out what to say to make it easier to digest. Tom nodded, his blue eyes wide as he took in all this information.

“That works then? An agency to watch over you.” He asked, concern in his eyes.

“Most of the time, yes.” She nodded and looked away.

“So you have to pay the agency back for leaving your date tonight? All of it?” He asked. “Even though he was a total arse—“

“Yes. It’s the rule. I have to pay back what they lost AND what I lost. It’s sort of a fail safe to try and keep girls from canceling mid-date. The thinking is we are more likely to put up with more if it’ll cost us double if we back out.”

“That’s really…shitty.” Tom stopped eating and suddenly looked rather thoughtful, pensive.

“I know. It’s alright though.   I’ve only had to do it a handful of times.” They fell into a silence. Tom barely eating, his mind obviously on Elle’s newfound career revelations. Elle eating everything, suddenly aware that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning.

“So why’d you kiss me last night?” Tom said after a beat, pursing his mouth, making his cheekbones more prominent. Elle laughed, taken aback.

“Really? We’re still stuck on that?” She threw her head back, unable to contain her laughter. “No real ulterior motives. You were cute. And sweet.” She winked at him as he frowned.

“Cute. Sweet.” He grumbled. Elle scrunched her nose at him, smiling. “Is your friend Marjorie…” He looked at her, realization washing over him. Elle grinned.

“She is a…coworker, yes.” She nodded, choosing her words carefully.

“So last night—“

“We weren’t working last night. Marjorie was there for personal reasons. I guess your friend Eddie was in for a treat.” She laughed and Tom blinked slowly, and the silence returned between them for a few minutes.

“What color is your real hair, Elle?” He looked up then, a hint of a smile on his mouth. Elle’s hand went to her hair—the platinum blond wig that brushed her slender shoulders.

“It’ll cost you to find that out.” She teased. Tom laughed, and sat back against the cushioned booth, shaking his head. The waitress stopped by the table, refilling the coffee, and clearing some of their empty dishes. There was only one other couple, and a lone man eating at the counter, in the whole restaurant. A quiet night for sure, punctuated occasionally by their laughter or the clink of silverware.

“Do you know what time it is?” Tom yawned, scrubbing a hand over his face. Elle lifted up her phone, showing him the display. It was a bit after 1 am. “God, I should go. I’m sorry. I’ve got a plane to catch in about seven hours.”

“Where are you off to, Mr. Hollywood?” She finished her burger and set back, feeling full and surprisingly happy. She was honestly shocked that he wasn’t bombarding her with questions, or acting like a total ass about the whole thing. He seemed bewildered, and maybe even off put by it, but he wasn’t fixating on it.

“Hawaii for press. Four days, and then I’m back in California for another four.”

“Busy.” She nodded.

“Yeah. Another whirlwind. Another endless stream of meetings, interviews, and dinner for one via hotel room service. It’s fantastic.” He motioned to the waitress, who brought over their check and which he immediately paid for. Elle smiled at him in thanks, and he waved her off.

“You don’t like it? Isn’t that what being an actor is all about?” She asked, finding herself want to prolong the conversation. It was against her better judgment, but she couldn’t stop.

“Well, not really. Acting is about acting.” He smiled softly. “The press stuff is fun, but I’ve been doing these _Brighton’s Case_ movies for the past…seven years. I love my co-stars, but Sheila is married and missing her kids. The newer supporting cast that just came on for this new movie, they’re all kids. And Eddie…well, you met Eddie. I can only take so much of Eddie.” He grinned. “I shouldn’t complain. I’m living the life. It just gets lonely. In every sense.” He shrugged. Elle nodded, unable to pull her eyes from his face as he talked. He was expressive—the way his mouth moved, the way his eyes flashed. It was hypnotic. She was quiet, not sure what to say to him. She understood being lonely, but perhaps not in the same way he did.

“You are a trip, Elle. A real trip.” He shook his head, taking another glug of coffee.   She was definitely intrigued by him. By his confidence, his masculinity, his surprising sweetness. She suddenly felt a bit sad knowing that she’d probably never see him again. More than a bit sad.

“You know…I have a business proposition for you.” Her words came out before she could fully form her thoughts.

“Oh…no.” He chuckled.

“No, hear me out.” She leaned forward, holding out a hand. “Listen…I mean… I get it. You don’t have time for relationships. You don’t even really have time for friendships right now. Everyone is busy living their day to day lives, and your day to day life changes constantly.” She slid out from her side of the booth, and moved over next to Tom, squashing up against him. He didn’t move, but merely laughed as her thigh bumped up against his.

“You’re lonely, you could use a…friend. And…I’m a _friend_. A really good one.” She swallowed, feeling her heart pounding against her ribs. Tom’s eyes widened, fully understanding her offer. “ I’m $1500 in the hole, and don’t have plans for the next few days. I’m good company, I promise. And I’d give you a discount.” She winked conspiratorially and then waited, smiling a bit too hard at him, suddenly feeling nervous and ridiculous. She didn’t proposition people. Ever. That was the agency’s job. She could see why now. She was terrible at it.

“Wow, I cannot believe I’m being propositioned in a seedy 24 hour diner.”

“I’ve propositioned people in stranger places.” She quipped, which made Tom, surprisingly, laugh.

“What, so you’re saying you want to come with me? Keep me company? Be my buddy.”

“Yes. But more than just a buddy. You don’t have to be delicate, Thomas. I’ll do _whatever you want_. This is business. You pay for my services, my company, and you get what every other client I book gets. Me. 100%.” She watched him, watched the flush rise up his neck. Ah, so he did get it.

“I’m sorry. I just… This isn’t something I normally do—“

“It’s okay. And even if it were something you normally did, it wouldn’t matter. Listen, Tom. You’re a good looking guy. You’re sweet and you’ve got a bit of a gentleman complex. But, I understand how you feel. The loneliness. The need for privacy. The pressure of it all. There’s no pressure with me. We go our separate ways at the end of the week, no hard feelings. Just a good time. I’m good at keeping secrets. Really good. I’ll sign confidentiality waivers, I’ll do whatever you want.   And we really could have a great time together, you know.”

“You are fantastic at selling yourself.”

“It is my job.”

“So really? I get you 100%? You’d…sit in a hotel room all day, waiting for me to finish my interviews. You’d eat dodgy room service, and watch old movies with me? You’d …”

Elle cut him off. “Yes, Tom. Anything you could say, the answer is yes. Let your mind wander. Get a little wild.” She teased. “And if you want me to be brutally honest, my specialty is blow jobs and strip teases.” He blushed, furiously then, with a smile that he covered with one large hand. He ran his hand over his face, and then through his hair, laughing nervously.

“That got your attention, then? It won’t be all long conversations and old movies, Hiddleston.” She smiled. She felt her nervousness wane away. This was her territory. Conversation. Making someone comfortable. Giving them what they wanted without totally realizing that it was also what she wanted. She wasn’t trying to trick him, not in the least bit. But they had a situation that could be mutually beneficial to both of them. And it could be completely painless, and maybe even fun.

“Is it bad I’m considering this?” He looked at her then, more serious now. Elle stopped smiling and shook her head slowly.

“How long has it been since you’ve been with a woman, Tom?” She blinked, putting one hand on his suit clad thigh. Tom coughed and then looked up toward the ceiling, biting his lower lip as he did. Elle felt a flip in her stomach, something that was rather unfamiliar to her.

“Let’s not talk about that, now.” He grinned.

“Just think about it, okay? You’d have me…100% for as long as you want. I only have one rule.” Elle swallowed, watching him. “I don’t kiss on the mouth.”

Tom looked surprised, even startled. “But I’ve already kissed you on the mouth.”

“That was different. This is business.”

“Ah. Yes.” He shifted. “So, I get you 99%. That’s more accurate, yeah?”

Elle nodded slowly and then reached over, stealing a french fry off Tom’s plate. He sat back, looking a bit tired, and also strangely relaxed, as if she’d just asked him to a movie or out to lunch.

“If I even…begin to consider this crazy idea, then I’ve got two things, Elle. Two things, and then…” He drifted off. Elle nodded.

“This is important to me.” He warned her. “First thing. You’ve got to promise me honesty. No matter what. If I ask you a question, I want your honest answer. I want your opinion, not what you think I want to hear.” He said. Elle started to smile, started to crack a joke, but then realized he was serious. Completely serious. She chewed on the inside of her lip, and then nodded in agreement.

“Okay. I promise. Honesty always.”

“Good. It starts now.” He pressed his lips together, giving her a stern look. She agreed.

“Second thing?”

“Right, well. It’s a question.” He held his hands up for a second and then put them back down on his lap and looked at her, his eyebrow furrowed. “Do you find me attractive?” He looked at her, a leveled gaze that made her stomach clench. Elle licked her lips and then remembered the first promise. She’d keep it.

“Yes.” She said with a smile that she couldn’t quite keep off her face. Tom nodded, his jaw set, his eyes serious.

Tom paused for only a second before a look passed through his eyes. It made Elle hold her breath, and wait for him to speak.

“Right then. Okay. Can you be ready in six hours? I’ll have a car pick you up.” He smiled, his voice low.

Elle nodded, grinned and then clunked her coffee mug against his.

“I’ll be ready.”


	5. Chapter 5

Elle didn’t exactly sleep.  When she got back to her apartment, it was nearing two in the morning, and there was a large, passed out man lying in front of her door.  John.  Apparently instead of getting lost, he’d decided that spending the night in front of her apartment was a better choice.  Elle had groaned, turned around and left the building and then promptly called her agency, who sent over an equally large, but totally sober, bodyguard named Gustavo to come clean up the debris in front of her doorway.  The debris had been so drunk, and out of it, that he had left without much of a fight.

After that, she’d taken a shower, packed her bag and sat teetering on the edge of her bed, gazing at the walls of her apartment—all four of which she could see from her seated spot.  A few minutes later, she found herself dialing Marjorie’s number, needing to tell her friend her new plans.

“Are you okay?” Marjorie answered her phone abruptly, her voice scratchy with sleep.  There was some rustling on the line, and Elle guessed she was in bed. Who’s bed was the real question.

“I’m fine. It was a beautiful sunset.” Elle quipped.  They had a safe phrase, “it was a beautiful sunset”, which allowed them to let each other know they were truly okay and safe, in case they were ever under duress. 

Marjorie exhaled loudly, and grumbled.

“It’s nearly 3 a.m.  I thought maybe you were in trouble. You freaked me out.  How was Gregory?” Marjorie asked, more rustling coming from her side of the line.  Elle sighed and flopped back on her bed, feeling tired but too excited to sleep.

“Not good. Let’s just say I owe the agency a lot of money.” She grumbled.  Marjorie cursed and then made a clicking noise, unhappy.

“Really? What’d he want you to do? Anal?” Marjorie snorted with laughter.  Elle rolled her eyes, putting a hand over her eyes with a smile. Marjorie wasn’t subtle, that was for sure.

“If only it were that simple. He was just a jerk and I didn’t feel like dealing with it.”

“He was a jerk and you…didn’t feel like dealing with it.” Marjorie repeated slowly, sounding stunned and annoyed.  Elle held her breath and then sighed.

“Yes.”

“Elle, they’re all jerks.  It’s our job to do things we don’t feel like dealing with.  Now you’re seriously going to be out a couple grand because…” Marjorie faded off.  More movement and rustling, and Elle frowned.

“Where are you? At home?”

“Not exactly.” Marjorie giggled softly.

“Are you working?” Elle frowned, knowing Marjorie couldn’t be working.  She hadn’t told her about anything.  Marjorie made a soft noise.

“No.” She answered.  “Personal business.”

Elle smiled and rolled her eyes.  Every couple of months, Marjorie would get wrapped up in some guy.  It was always a flash in the pan, and never anything serious, but it would burn bright and hot and usually implode on itself.  She wondered who the lucky guy was this time.

“Ok, well, I will let you go then.” Elle rolled onto her side.  “I just wanted to let you know I’m not going to be around for a week or so.” She said cautiously, already guessing Marjorie’s reaction.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Nothing. I’m just…taking a break. I’m going on vacation. I’ll be back in like, a week.” Elle shrugged.  She wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to tell Marjorie about Tom, and their arrangement.  Something made her want to keep it to herself.  Marjorie didn’t buy it for a second.

“You better tell me where you are going, Elle Amore.” Marjorie’s voice got deeper, more stern.  Elle laughed, trying to play it off.  She sat up tucking her feet beneath her on the bed.

“Well, it’s no big deal.  But you remember that guy from the other night? Tom?” She said, forcing nonchalance.  Marjorie grunted in response.  “Yeah, well I bumped into him tonight and…and we made a deal.” She ended lamely, and braced herself for the reaction.  Marjorie was silent for a minute.

“What kind of deal, Elle?” She asked stonily.  Elle laughed, nervously.

“Just a standard week long thing.” There was actually not much standard about a whole week long booking.  Not for Elle.  She kept talking.  “He’s lonely, and going on a press thing for work.  I’m going with him.  No big deal, Marj.” She got up off the bed and began to slowly pace around her small apartment.  Marjorie was quiet again for a second, but then started talking all at once.

“Did you tell the agency? What did they say about you picking up some random guy off the street? How much are you charging him? Where are you going? What if something happens, and there will be no one around to help you, Elle.  Have I taught you nothing? Have you watched the Investigation Discovery channel? _The First 48 Hours? True Crime with Aphrodite Jones? On the Case with Paula Zahn?!_ ” Marjorie blubbered, her voice fast and angry. 

Elle blinked, and paused.

“First of all, stop watching so much cable.” She said softly.  Marjorie huffed.

“Second…I did not tell the agency.  I don’t see why I should have to. You’re right, but they won’t be able to help me when I’m not even in the state.  And I need the money.  I’ll get to keep all of it if I don’t go through them.” Elle sighed.

“Not good though, Elle.”

“Third, it’ll be fine, Marj. Thank you for your concern.  He’s a celebrity—an actor.  You know that right? Of course you do, you slept with the director.” Elle frowned, thinking of Eddie.  “And if something happens, you can write a memoir for me, and make a lot of money off of it.  Okay?” Elle knew she was making a joke of it.  She knew that Marjorie had some valid points, but she also knew that Tom wasn’t a threat.  She trusted her gut instincts and they’d never steered her wrong yet.

Marjorie made a high pitched noise, and then sighed.

“Fine. You better keep in touch with me though.  If I get so much as an inkling that he’s about to go all _Silence of the Lambs_ on you, I’ll come out there myself.  Where are you going, anyway?” She asked, calmer now. 

“Hawaii!” Elle laughed, feeling a bit of glee wash over her.  She’d never been out of the US, and had stuck mostly to the east coast.

“Wow…Hawaii?!” Marjorie exclaimed.

“Hawaii for four days, and then California for another four. It’s press for the new movie. _Brandon’s Case_?” She frowned, forgetting the name.

“I didn’t know they were going to Cali and god damn Hawaii! And, good lord. It’s _Brighton’s Case_. Get it right, Elle.  If you’re going to be banging the man for thousands of dollars, the least you can do is get his movie right.” Marjorie teased.  Elle laughed.  “Speaking of money.  How much did he give you?”

Elle hesitated.

“Well? If you charged your normal rate, at 8 nights, that’s $12,000, Elle! That’s really fucking fantastic.  And he _is_ gorgeous.” Marjorie sounded pleased for her friend, and Elle felt a bit sit.  “Or did you upcharge a bit since you’ll be on the clock during the day too? I think if you just do a nice even 15k, it’ll be fair.  If he was an ogre, I’d push it to twenty, but girl…I wouldn’t mind a week with him at all.”

Elle was quiet again.  She grimaced, pulling her hair back with one hand as she chewed on her lip.

“What? How much, Elle? Are you there? Hello?” Marjorie asked impatiently.

“I’m here.” Elle spoke up.  “It’s just…well, we didn’t discuss…the money yet.” She ground out, sheepishly.

“What?!” The noise that came from Marjorie was at sonar level.  Elle was pretty sure that only dolphins could understand it.  She held the phone away from her head, until the screeching and expletives stopped.

“You’re kidding right, Elle? Have I taught you nothing? Nothing?! There’s three rules. THREE RULES.  And you gotta follow them or you’ll get in trouble.” Marjorie screeched.  “No kissing on the mouth.  No feelings. And you get the money BEFORE you do anything else!” Marjorie sounded pained, as if she’d been physically struck. 

“I know the rules, Marjorie. I know the rules.  He knows them too...some of them.  I’m not worried about the money.  I’ll talk to him on the plane.  We’ve got time.” Elle glanced at the clock.  Tom would be there in just a few hours, and she was hoping to get some sort of sleep before the car showed up.

“You better lay it all out, Elle.  Seriously. Don’t let him swindle you.  The good looking ones are usually the worst kind.” Marjorie huffed, and then Elle heard a deep, male voice on Marjorie’s end. 

“I’ll talk to you soon, Marj. I’ll let you know how it goes.” Elle laughed, and she could already tell Marjorie’s attention was elsewhere.

“Bye, Elle! Have fun and remember the rules.” Marjorie said and then burst into girlish laughter as Elle disconnected the phone. 

The rules.  Of course she would remember the rules.  They were all she had.

 

 ***

 

Elle stood gaping at the airplane in front of her.  The limo had come to pick her up at seven, just as Tom had promised.  He wasn’t inside though, so she rode to the airport in silence.  She hadn’t managed to get more than a 45 minute nap, so the quiet had been welcome.  After her phone call with Marjorie, she had spent the next half hour arguing with one of the women at the agency, over Gregory’s fee, and what had happened that night.  She then had to put in the request not to be booked for the next ten days.  It hadn’t gone over so well, considering Elle was popular, and it was such short notice.

In the end, she’d gotten her way.  Ten days away from the everyday grind.  Ten days spent with one man and only one man.  It sounded silly, and a bit ridiculous, but she found a quiet sort of exhausted relief at the change in her plans.  It sounded like bliss, and she was looking forward to it.  Plus, the money she brought it would be more than amazing.  Her mind was spinning with possibilities.

“Hello. Long time, no see.” Tom’s smooth accent broke her from her thoughts and Elle turned to him, smiling.  “You’re a red head today.” He said with a warm laugh.  “I like it.”

Elle had worn her shoulder length, auburn wig.  She reached up, touching it.

“Hello, handsome.” She said easily.  He did look handsome too, though he was dressed very casually in jeans and a soft looking light blue shirt.  She’d dressed casually as well, in a fitted cotton tank dress which still showed off her curves, and strappy sandals with satin ribbons that wrapped up her ankles. 

“You look lovely as well.” His eyes flashed brilliant blue, and he smiled brightly at her.

“Is this our plane?” She motioned toward the jet, which had it’s door open, and a set of stairs pulled out. “This can’t be for us.” Tom grinned and stepped next to her, leading her gently toward it.

“It is.  We will arrive in style.” He said.  Elle turned, about to go back to get her bags, but Tom stopped her.  “They’ll make sure your stuff gets onboard.  Are you all set?” He asked.  Elle nodded. 

He was more confident this morning than he had been last night.  He seemed comfortable—in his own world now.  Elle nodded, and watched him a bit warily as he gave a few clipped, direct instructions to the man who had driven her to the airport, and another man who was standing by, waiting.

 He was a bit of chameleon.  Sweet, good natured, unassuming at times.  Other times very much in charge, and just a little bit alpha male at the edges.  She wondered which one was more him, or if he was one of those rare birds who contained both sides.

“I’ve never…flown before.” Elle said quickly as Tom ushered her up the short flight of stairs, his hand at the small of her back as he did.

“Really? You’re kidding.” He was right behind her, she could practically feel him.

“No. Just never really needed to.” She paused at the top of the stairs, took a step into the airplane and then let out a tiny, squeaky gasp. 

It wasn’t a huge airplane, but it was still impressive.  Instead of the traditional seating that she’d imagined and seen in most commercial flights, there was a cluster of four large, reclining leather seats at the far end of the plane.  Nearest to her, there was a plush looking couch that ran nearly the entire length of one side of the plane.  Another comfortable looking recliner sat parallel to the couch, a small table in front of it for work or eating.

“Well, this will be a treat then.” Tom said softly, and gently directed her into the cabin.

“Who else is coming with us?” She asked, turning around.  She nearly bumped into him, as he moved by her.  Tom set a laptop bag, and another small bag down next to the chair with the table and then motioned her toward the couch next to it.  Elle set her bag down, and then sat on the couch, her eyes never leaving him.

“Just us.” He raised an eyebrow at her.  “Eddie was supposed to come, but he pushed back his flight until later today for some reason.  He told me just to take this plane.” He explained.  Elle nodded and felt somewhat relieved.  She didn’t really like Eddie, and was glad she wouldn’t be stuck on an airplane with him for many hours.

“So just us. All alone. Thousands of feet in the air.” She said softly, looking around as she felt something tumble through her.  Not quite fear, not quite excitement.  She wasn’t sure what it was.  Marjorie’s words were in her head, swimming through her thoughts.  Maybe this wasn’t safe.  She hardly knew this man, and now she was going to be holed up in a gorgeous, glamorous private jet for ten hours.  Elle blinked.

“You look like you’re going to throw up, or maybe pass out.” Tom froze, his eyes on her.  Elle blinked again, clearing her thoughts.

“I’m fine.” She went into business mode then, because that was what she knew.  She could make a business transaction.  She could sweet talk him, and put him at ease, and she could be the woman he wanted for the night…or the week, as it were.  If she was Elle Amore, she would be fine.  Elle Amore was always fine.

“Shall we get this party started, then? Do you want a drink? I’m sure there’s got to be something on this ‘ol thing.” She stood up, brushing past him as she walked over to a mini fridge behind the one chair.  She felt his eyes on her. 

Elle stopped in front of the fridge, and then slowly bent, her back to Tom as she perused the fridge.  She made sure her back was arched, her ass up, her hips swaying slightly as she reached in and pulled out a bottle of champagne from the fridge.

“Aha!” She whirled around, smiling.  Tom stood a few feet from her, in the aisle, his stance wide, his eyes leveled at her.  “Drink?” She asked softly, finding her voice.  He licked his lips and Elle felt her stomach tense.  In a good way, this time.

“Yes. Can you pop it? Or would you like me to?”

“You can pop my cork. Sure.” She grinned at him, and Tom laughed, shaking his head.  He walked over, and gently took the bottle from her.  Elle winked at him, and slipped by him, out of his reach as he began working on the bottle. 

She looked around the plane, running her hands over leather and wood accents. 

“We should talk.  I hate to do this, but I have to.” She said casually, her back to Tom.  Marjorie’s warnings still in her head.

“Oh?”

“Well, about my fee.  I need half of it now, as a sort of…you know, safety measure.  I usually charge $1500 for a night. And this is eight nights, plus days, so…” She turned around to face Tom.  He had opened the champagne and was filling two flutes.

“Just tell me, Elle.” He said easily, raising his eyes to hers.

“Twenty thousand dollars.” She said, raising her chin slightly as she said it.  She was prepared for him to laugh, or to immediately shut her down.  It felt like an insane amount of money, but she was hoping she could work him to fifteen thousand.

“Alright.” He said almost immediately, setting the bottle in a large holder that was attached to the fridge for safety.  Elle blinked, tried not to show her surprise.

“Oh. Okay.” She stuttered slightly as he walked forward, stopping just in front of her, a champagne glass held out.  She took it, slightly shocked.  It was so much money.   He hadn’t even hesitated.

“Thank you for coming with me.” His voice was low, and it hit her between her thighs and in her stomach.  Elle licked her lips, and saw his hand come up, and rest gently under her chin.  Tom tilted her head up, toward him.  She found his gaze, and from this distance she could see the sky blue of his eyes, flecked with darker ocean blue and hints of stormy gray. She swallowed hard.

“You’re welcome.” She whispered, finding her voice. 

“I’ll wire half the money to you. Just tell me where.” He kept her gaze, and then she felt his hand, warm and soft on her arm.  Elle nodded, feeling strange.  Not sad, and not quite happy either.

“Thank you.” She took a step forward, and closed the small distance that was between them. 

Tom leaned forward then, as if he was going to kiss her.  She could see the desire in his heavy eyes, the slight parting of his lips.  For a split second, Elle raised her face to his, beckoning him in.  Anticipating his touch.  Then, reality, and the rules came rushing back in.  At the last moment, she gently turned her head, grazing her lips against his jawline.

He had slight stubble there, and it felt rough but good against her mouth.  She dragged her lips against his skin, pressed her chest against him as she left kisses on his face and then neck.  He was solid against her, the heat from his body evident through the thin material of his soft shirt.  He had one hand still on her forearm, the other resting by her hip, holding his champagne glass.  Elle briefly wondered if he’d taste like champagne if she were able to kiss his lips.

“What’s this from?” His voice was quiet.  His face was looking down, to where he touched her forearm.  Bruises, in the shape of fingers.  She chewed her lip and shrugged slightly away, resting her free hand over the marks.

“Who knows. I bruise easily.” She said with a flippant laugh.  Tom caught her hand in his and steadied her from moving farther away.

“Was it that prick last night? Or someone else?”

“Maybe? Both?” She said sheepishly.  “Don’t worry about it. Really.  I won’t see either of them again.” She said, thinking of John sleeping drunkenly outside her apartment, and then the snide, leering way Gregory looked down at her inside his limousine.

Tom’s eyes got darker for a moment, but he didn’t speak.

“Mr. Hiddleston? We’re about to take off.” A voice interrupted them, and Elle and Tom pulled away from each other.  Tom turned, away from her. Two men had walked onto the plane, both wearing uniforms.

“Thanks, Shawn.  Elle, this is our pilot, Shawn Jones.” Tom introduced Elle to the pilot, and then the co pilot, Michael, who would be the only two other people on the plane, though sequestered in their own quarters. 

“Ready?” Tom said, as the men left, readying the plane for take off.  Elle felt nervous jitters rush through her.  She nodded and sat down on the couch, where Tom had directed her earlier.

The take off was easy, and Elle found it exhilarating.  She’d stared out the windows as they’d ascended, watching the city of New York go from a huge, towering city, to nothing but a miniature version of some sort of child’s game.  Tom had been quiet, content on watching Elle as they’d lifted off the ground.

Once they were in the air, he’d refilled both their glasses, and then walked over toward his bags.

“What do you want to do?” Elle asked, watching him.  “Do you want a massage, perhaps? I’ll make you feel super relaxed.” She sat on the edge of the sofa, setting her glass down in one of the cup holders.  She felt herself nearly vibrating with nervous, tired energy. Tom turned to her and smiled.

“Elle.  Relax.  Really.” He pulled a computer out of his bag. 

“I am relaxed.  Totally relaxed.” She nodded, though she sat stick straight on the edge of the couch, her fingers drumming on her thigh.  She knew she was sleep deprived.  She also knew she was insanely nervous.  She was worried about messing up.  She was worried about disappointing him.  She was worried he’d tell her to go home after one day together. 

She had return customers, but she’d never spent more than a few hours at a time with one man. 

Elle took a deep breath, and fought off a yawn.

“Did you sleep last night?” He asked, sitting down across from her in the chair. 

“I was too excited about this.” She shrugged.  He smiled and raised his glass to her, which they clinked together. 

“You aren’t my servant, Elle.  Relax, please.  Do what you would if you were on vacation.  If I need something, I’ll let you know.” He said, his brow furrowed.  Elle chewed on her lip, and then stopped herself.

“Maybe I should just give you a blow job, and get it over with. You know, like an ice breaker.” She blurted out.  Tom nearly choked on his champagne.  Elle seemed to have that effect on him. 

“An ice breaker.  That’s some ice breaker.” He chuckled, and then moved, sitting next to her on the couch.

Elle turned to him, quickly, her hands going to his belt. 

“Whoa. Down girl.” He laughed, grabbing her hands and pulled her against him.  Elle grinned, and let him press her against him.  She wondered suddenly what he looked like naked.  Lean…muscular…strong… She had visions of him towering over her while she gripped his powerful thighs, his hands in her hair as she… 

Elle cleared her throat.  “I want to make sure you have a good time.” She pressed a hand against his thigh.

 Tom stilled, and looked at her, then reached up and tugged gently on her hair, wrapping a reddish brown lock around one finger.

“I am having a good time, don’t worry about that.” He said softly.  “What color is your real hair, Elle?” He asked.  “Now that I’m paying you, I think I should get an answer.” He teased. 

Elle blinked slowly, looked away and then looked back at him, feeling her chest get tight.

“It’s whatever color you want it to be.” She said simply, with a small smile.  Tom’s eyes were heavy lidded as he looked at her, his thoughts unreadable.  Elle reached up, brushed a hand over his cheekbones, down his jaw and across his lips. 

She could feel the exhaustion setting in, but it was also accompanied by something else.  Like carbonation in her veins, not just in her stomach.  A fluttering through her whole body.

“We have ten hours on this plane.  I have some work to do first.  Why don’t you relax, and I’ll wake you up in a few, after I get my emails and calls done?” Tom asked, his voice quiet and neutral.  Elle sat up a bit straighter, surprised.  She nodded though.

“Sure. You’re a workaholic, aren’t you?” She teased.  Tom nodded.

“Why do you think relationships don’t work for me? No time. No romance.” He said simply.  Elle nodded, and then let him slide away, standing up to grab his laptop.  He moved over to the armchair, reaching into his other bag, and pulling out a pair of black rimmed glasses. 

Elle sat back on the couch, her legs tucked under her, the cool glass of champagne still in her hand.   She quickly drank the rest, and then laid down on the couch, letting her dress slide up her thighs, figuring he could have something nice to look at if he didn’t want to touch, just yet.

It seemed to work, as he gave her a few furtive, suggestive glances as he started typing away on the laptop.

Elle smiled mischievously and then closed her eyes.  She was tired.  She was more than tired.  She’d been running on excitement and adrenaline for hours and hours.  Now that she had a moment, she felt the weariness in her body.  The bruises from being grabbed by John, and also by Gregory, were suddenly starting to ache. 

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.  She’d nap for an hour or two, just long enough to recharge, and give Tom time to work.  Then, they’d still have eight hours, in which she would most definitely put some of her skills to good use.  No ifs, ands or buts. 

“Wake me up when you’re done, okay? In an hour or so? I just need an hour.” She said through a yawn.  Tom smiled and nodded.

“Sleep, Elle.”

Elle felt herself slip into sleeping, the constant, comforting drone of the airplane filling her ears, followed by the soft tapping of Tom on his computer.

She didn’t wake up until many hours later, when she was jolted from sleep by the bump and jostle of the plane wheels lowering, and hitting the ground in Honolulu.


	6. Chapter 5

Elle flopped down on the bed, and giggled, moving her arms back and forth wildly. 

“Bed angel?” Tom peeked his head around the corner, and Elle froze, stuck in an awkward position with her arms and legs splayed out like some sort of starfish, her skirt riding up her thighs. 

“This bed is amazing!” She laughed and then rolled onto her side, to face him.  He paused at the bedroom door, and crossed his arms over his chest, looking contemplative and serious.

“You look good on that bed. I think you should stay there for the next four days.  But perhaps with less clothes on.” He said with a small smile that led from the corner of his mouth up to his eyes.  Elle grinned and sat up, then reached down and grabbed the hem of her simple tank dress and rolled it up, yanking it over her head. 

Tom’s eyes widened as she grinned.  She crawled across the bed on all fours, arching her back as she did, swaying her hips and flipping her reddish brown hair over one shoulder seductively.

“That was…hello.” He walked forward, and came to a stop as his knees hit the sides of the bed.  Elle came up onto her knees, and pushed him gently on the chest.  Tom didn’t budge.

“Like what you see?” She smiled.  He nodded.  “I’ve never been to a place this nice before.  It’s beautiful.” She said, sighing.  And it was.  Although she’d seen a miniscule amount of Honolulu, the hotel they were staying in was absolutely stunning.  The reception area was huge, with wide open rafters and white marble floors.  There was a casual elegance that was designed to make guests feel relaxed and pampered all at the same time.

Unfortunately, a half hour ago as they’d made their way through the lobby, Elle hadn’t quite felt like a guest.  She felt like at any minute someone was going to walk up to her and ask her to leave, which had happened to both her and Marjorie on numerous occasions throughout hotels in New York city.  They tried to stay inconspicuous, but at times they stuck out like sore thumbs.

 She’d kept pace with Tom, though stayed just a bit to the side and behind him as they had walked.  No one had recognized him, when they were at the airport, and now, at the hotel.  It had been surprising considering his tall stature, and somewhat distracting good looks. She wanted to make sure she could easily fall back and out of the way if someone did.  This wasn’t her world, and she was smart enough to know she shouldn’t get used to it or start thinking she belonged there.

“I am so underdressed.” She’d whispered softly to Tom, as they’d waited at reception.  Tom turned and looked down at her, brow furrowed.

“You’re fine, Elle.  People are on vacation. It’s casual.” He moved his shoulders, trying to look overly relaxed.  Elle had given him a short smile.  He was a terrible liar, which was funny considering it’s what he did for a living.

“It is gorgeous here.” Tom reached for her then, and placed both of his big hands at her waist. “You’re pretty bloody gorgeous as well.” He said, reaching up and tugging on her hair.

He was good at giving compliments.  Way too good.  Maybe it was that accent. Or the way he looked directly at her as he said whatever ooey, gooey words he was saying.  Elle flipped her hair over her shoulder, and ran her hands down her front, over her red lace bra and matching panties, bringing his attention back to her body.

“Do you like these? What’s your favorite color?” She purred, tilting her head as she reached for Tom, tugging on his shirt.  Tom smiled, and gave a soft chuckle, amused.

“You are always working, aren’t you Miss. Amore?” He asked.  Elle’s eyes widened.

“This is a job. So, yes.” She said gently.  Tom nodded.

“I do like them.  And my favorite color is blue.” He said succinctly.  Elle nodded, making a mental note.  “But, if we are talking about lingerie…then black.” He said, his voice getting low, and rough.  Elle scratched her earlier mental note, and replaced it. 

“Good to know, Mr. Hiddleston.” She slipped her hands under his shirt, finding hard, warm muscle and skin.  Tom swallowed, and then wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her forward.  Elle grinned, and tipped backward, out of his reach, lying back against the bed, and giving Tom quite a good eyeful.  He watched her, watched as she bent backward, her legs tucked under her, her breasts pushing against the fabric of her bra, the slender muscles in her thighs beckoning as she moved. 

Elle wiggled against the sheets, and she hooked one finger toward him, motioning for Tom to come forward. 

They had been given a gorgeous suite. After ten hours on a plane, plus a time difference, Elle had been feeling wary and tired with jet lag.  Although it should have been around 5 in the evening in New York, it was only 11 in the afternoon in Honolulu when they’d landed.  She’d been so relieved to arrive at the hotel, and find that they’d been booked in a suite.

“Do you normally get this sort of treatment? Private jets, hotel suites…” Elle asked, as Tom kicked his shoes off and climbed onto the bed.  She could feel the ocean breeze coming in through one of the huge, open windows.  It caressed her bare skin, and made her feel hazy and relaxed. 

“No. Not always, believe me.  But when it’s Eddie’s show, we go all out.  The studio loves him, so he gets what he wants. And I just go along for the ride.” Tom said with a grin. 

They had been driven on a golf cart through the resorts lush tropical grounds, and taken to a long row of small, neat looking one story buildings.  The buildings were staggered for privacy, and had deep sides that shielded from seeing the neighboring structure.

The front of each building was nearly identical—a small deck that led right out onto a lush, green lawn and then down to the sandy beach and ocean.  There were chaise lounges on each deck, and an overhang which kept it in the shade. 

Up one step, onto the small porch, there was a wide, expansive glass window and a heavy wooden door that lead into their room.  Inside, there was a sitting area, with white and teak furniture that faced the big window.  A fireplace was on one far wall, and a television hung over it.  Beyond that was a small kitchen, with a dark wood table. 

Although the whole suite was fantastic, it had been the bedroom that had left both Elle and Tom a bit giddy.  It was like a tropical, romantic fantasy.  Dark wood, a huge four poster bed with billowy white curtains hanging from the posts. One wall faced the ocean, and was made entirely of tinted glass.  There was a small pool that led from the inside of the room, out into a larger, private pool in front of the building.

Elle had known immediately that she was in paradise.  And that this whole arrangement must have been some sort of mistake or dream.   She turned then, to the man responsible for the whole thing.

“Thank you.” She said simply.  He frowned and raised an eyebrow.

“For?”

“Bringing me here.  I know it’s all part of the deal, and it’s work for you.  But thank you.  I’ve never been somewhere so beautiful.  And I’m enjoying your company.  And that’s not a line.” She smiled and reached forward, taking his hand and intertwining his fingers with hers.

“I’m enjoying your company as well.”

“Well, good. Because if you weren’t then…I’d have a problem.” She laughed and Tom lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. 

“You’re stunning right now, Elle.  Do you know that?  In your knickers, on this fucking amazing bed.” He said with a tiny smile, as Elle held his hand and then gently brought it down toward her breasts.  Elle watched as his big hand covered her, and she let her head tilt back, sighing softly as his palm pressed against her breast.  Tom moved closer, scooping his arm around her as he brushed the lace covering her. Elle felt her nipple tighten, sensitive to him, as he leaned forward and began to kiss her neck.  His hand dipped below her bra, pushing it to the side as he cupped her in his hand.  Tom groaned, and kept kissing her neck, his tongue swirling against her skin as his fingers rubbed against her nipple.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She swallowed, breathing heavily.  “But you’re wearing way too many clothes.” She reached forward, slipped her hands under his shirt and began tugging it up.

“Tommy!” A voice startled them both, ringing through the suite.  Tom jolted upright, at the same time as Elle, and their heads clanged together with a hard thud.  Elle groaned and then giggled, reaching forward and grabbing her head and his where they had bumped.

“Shit, are you okay?” She laughed.  Tom chuckled and nodded, and then sprang off the bed.  He disappeared out of the room, and back into the living area. 

Elle sighed, flopping back onto the bed.  This was the first date she’d been on where she’d yet to have sex with the client.  Nothing. Nada. Zip.  And not for trying.  She took a deep breath and looked down at herself. Red lace push up bra, her tits practically up to her neck.  Skimpy matching thong.  Curvy hips. Flat stomach.  Decent legs, if not a bit short since she was barely reaching 5’5”.  What was the hold up?

Elle climbed off the bed, as she heard Tom talking to someone in the other room, and quickly slipped her dress back on. 

“David.” Tom’s voice was warm, and happy as he greeted whoever had just rudely interrupted their afternoon delight.  Elle was somewhat relieved it wasn’t Eddie, as she wasn’t a huge fan of the dark Hulk. 

Elle made herself presentable, and then glimpsed around the door, out into the main room.  A younger man, around the same age as Tom, was hugging Tom, patting him firmly on the back.   Elle smiled, and waited, trying to stay out of the way.  She was used to being the invisible person—rich businessmen often completely looked through her when she was out on a date with someone.  It was as if it were an unspoken rule that she was just a space filler.  It didn’t hurt her feelings anymore.  In fact, most of the times, she preferred it. 

The younger man turned as he released Tom, and immediately smiled at her, seeing her standing at the doorway.  He looked surprised to see another person there, but he wasn’t unfriendly about it. He smiled with his eyes, and had a laid back, easy way about him.  Elle smiled back, but kept quiet.  She got a good feeling from him, but she was deferring to Tom on how this was all going to work.  Tom could choose to basically ignore her presence, or he could make up some sort of story.  It was his decision, and Elle was fine with either one. 

“David, this is my friend, Elle Amore.  Elle, this is my manager and publicist, David Henkille.” Tom turned when he saw David’s attention had been directed, and walked over to Elle.  He gently tugged her from the bedroom, and introduced them.  Elle smiled and shook the hand that was offered to her.  David looked a bit like a blond Jake Gyllenhaal—but shorter, and a bit friendlier in the face.

“Nice to meet you, Elle.  Tom doesn’t have many friends, so it’s good to know he’s won someone over.” David laughed, and Tom shook his head with a grin.  Elle smiled, cementing the fact that she knew she was going to like David. 

“Nice to meet you, as well.  Has anyone ever told you you look like Jake Gyll—“

“Elle, you’ll give the man a big head.” Tom cut her off, grinning.

“No, please, Ellle.  Tell me more. I have been told I look like dashing, good looking, attractive and eligible bachelor Jake Gyllehaal before, but please, tell me again.” David tilted his chin up, brushing back his hair as they all laughed. 

“Anyway, enough about me.  Nice room! Orchid suite.  I’m surprised Eddie didn’t claim it already—“

“Eddie is still in New York.  Or he may be en route.” Tom said with a shrug.  David frowned, putting his hands on his lean hips.

“He didn’t come with you?”

“No, he was, uh, otherwise engaged.” Tom raised an eyebrow and then looked at Elle and winked. 

“When isn’t he engaged? I swear, that man’s dick is going to fall off.  Or just wear away from friction.” David rolled his eyes, and then turned to Elle. “I’m sorry. I’m not normally so crass.” He apologized and Elle shrugged.  “I’ve never met a man who fucks more than Eddie Porter.  And believe me, I _know_ some guys.” David groaned and Tom chuckled. 

“My friend Marjorie went home with him the other night.  I’ll have to ask her how that went.” Elle quipped and David made a soft gagging noise, which threw Tom into a fit of laughter.

“The poor girl.  I’ll send her a fruit basket.” David scrunched up his nose and then gently took Elle by the elbow.

“Elle, darling, I’m glad to see you here.  Tom’s the loneliest man I’ve ever met.” David laughed and Tom groaned and threw his hands up in the air. David kept going. “You’ll be good company for him.  But, unfortunately, I need to borrow Tom for an hour or two, max.  We’ve got to go over the schedule for the next few days.  Tom will be free for most of the early evening, and then we’ll have dinner with everyone tonight around 8 in the hotel restaurant.  Sound good?” David said with a smile.  Tom blinked and then clenched his jaw, annoyed.  Elle couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sounds perfect.” Elle replied.  She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with her free time, but she suspected Tom would have answers for that.  David only stayed for a few minutes more, but then he left to go check on the whereabouts of their director, the dark Hulk. He said he would meet Tom in the lobby, and that the hotel had set up a meeting space for them and all their press meetings in a large conference room on the first floor.

“I like him.” Elle said after David left, leaving them alone again. Tom groaned and walked over to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of water and offered her one.  Elle took it, gladly.

“David is the worst.  He’s eternally cheerful, and friendly, and always in my business.  But it is what I pay him to do.” Tom laughed.  “Actually, he’s one of my closest friends. He runs my life.” He took a deep breath and walked over to Elle, who was sipping her water.

“He didn’t seem too surprised to see me.”

“I told him you were coming.  Emailed on the way over.  He doesn’t know everything.” Tom raised one eyebrow.  “But he knows enough.”

Elle nodded and leaned against the granite counter.

 “What would you like me to do while you’re in your meetings?” Elle asked.  In this extended situation, she wasn’t sure if Tom wanted her to just stay in the room, not risking being seen or associated with him.  Or if he wanted her to be ever ready, in case he had a break and was in the mood for an afternoon quickie…

“Whatever you’d like.  There’s the pool, of course.” He smiled. “And you can go to the beach.  I may have one or two really long days, so if you want I can arrange for you to go on an excursion of some sort.  There’s also the spa, and shopping.” He walked over to his bag, which had been set by the table.  And opened it, rummaging through it for a change of clothes.

“Whatever you decide, just charge it to the room, okay?” Tom said, pulling out pants and a clean shirt.  “We’ll probably have dinner every night with studio people, journalists, movie bigwigs.  Do you have clothes for that?” He asked, looking up. 

“Fancy dinners?” She asked.  She was frankly surprised he’d want to take her to those things.  “I don’t know that I have anything fancy enough.” She’d packed mostly casual sun dresses, and skimpy lingerie.  She had designer clothing.  She wore it often when she was with clients.  But since Tom was a celebrity, she’d expected to be kept a secret this week.  She hadn’t expected that he’d want to bring her along to any work functions.

“Okay, well you should go shopping tomorrow while I’m in meetings. There’s some great shops in the hotel.  Get some dresses for dinner.  Tonight should be fine, it’ll just be David and Eddie.” Tom stood, moving toward the bathroom so he could change for his meeting with David.

“Okay.” Elle said softly, not quite able to hide her surprise.  Was he for real? Not only was he paying her an obscene amount of money to do something that, honestly, she would have done for free…but he was also going to let her charge  clothing and spa treatments and excursions to him as well?  Elle reached down and pinched her thigh, hard, just to make sure she wasn’t in some crazy, fever induced dream.  She didn’t want to wake up, in her cramped New York apartment, hungover from yet another half hour date with a client who smelled like sweat and slapped her ass way too hard.

 

 ****

 

Tom left for his meeting a few minutes later, promising her he was hers the rest of the evening until dinner.  Elle had done what she could to relax, feeling the travel wearing on her slightly.  She walked around the suite, marveling at the room and her surroundings.  She sat on every chair. Opened every door, cabinet and closet she could find. She turned on the television and flipped through most of the channels, before turning it off, knowing that the view outside was better than anything she’d find on tv.  She wore one of the robes that was in the bathroom, over her dress, and then ate one of the tiny chocolates that was in a bowl on the kitchen table.

When there was nothing left to touch or look at, she unpacked her things, and then Tom’s clothes as well.  Then she went back to the bathroom, and decided that a bath was in order.  She felt a bit grimy from travel, and wanted to be fresh and clean for dinner that night.  And hopefully dessert as well.

The bathroom was large, and like the rest of the suite, decorated in neutrals with white marble floor and a free standing porcelain tub.  She stood in front of the mirror and gently, slowly removed her wig. Perhaps that night she’d go back to being a blond. It felt appropriate being in the tropics. Sun kissed. 

She sighed as she took the auburn hair off, revealing her own sleek brown hair.  Elle set the wig down on the counter, and reached up, massaging her scalp and as she tugged bobby pin after bobby pin out of her own hair.  It was an ordeal, wearing the wigs all the time, but it was just easier.  On so many levels.  She liked becoming a different person.  It helped her come to terms with what she did.  She could disconnect.

Elle took a bath then, running the water extra hot and filling the tub with lavender and hibiscus scented salts that were in the room.  She soaked, letting her muscles relax, and the steam soften her skin.  She didn’t keep track of time as she was in there, she let her mind wander, feeling refreshingly relaxed for the first time in a long time.

She’d just gotten out, toweling herself off, and brushing her hair, when she’d heard the door open to the suite.  Elle wrapped herself in a towel, and padded out of the bathroom, leaving behind the steamy air for the cool, breezy island air of the late afternoon.

Tom looked tired, and but alert and surprisingly chipper, considering she knew he must be just as jet lagged as she was.  Perhaps he was more used to it—the traveling and the time zone changes.  She wondered if she should draw him a bath as well, and maybe give him a back rub as he soaked.  The idea, for some reason, appealed to her, and her mind wandered to wet, gleaming muscles and skin, slippery with soap.  She blinked.

“Hello.  Sorry that took so long.  David is a talker, and then Eddie finally showed up.” Tom apologized, running a hand over his face.  He paused briefly, taking in the sight of Elle, fresh from the bath, wearing only her towel.

“How was your meeting?” Elle walked over, brushing a hand through her hair.  Tom looked at her then, tilting his head slightly, his eyes narrowing.  Elle froze, confused by the way he was looking at her.

“They were good. Come here.” Tom said quickly, distracted by something.

“What? What’s wrong?” Elle took a hesitant step forward, her hand going to her bath towel that was wrapped around her.  Tom smiled then, a small one, and took a few steps to meet her halfway.

Elle blinked, waited, then reached up and tugged gently at the top of the towel, where it was tucked in by her breasts.

“Want me to take this off?” She asked with a teasing smile, ready to drop it.  Tom nodded his head no, and then with a small smile nodded his head yes. He reached for her, and Elle took the signal and let her hands drop to his sides. Ah, so he was the take charge type.  A “do-it-yourself-er”.  Elle took a deep breath, but then was surprised when he didn’t go for the towel.

Tom reached up and gently brushed his fingers by her temple and then into her hair.  She felt his fingers graze over her scalp, and tug gently through her thick, soft hair.  She blinked, sucking in a quick breath, surprised.  She wasn’t wearing her normal wigs.  She hadn’t been paying attention to the time, or she would have donned one of the dozen wigs she’d carefully packed with her.

“You’re a brunette.”He said simply, his eyes going to her dark chocolate brown hair.  It fell in loose waves around her shoulders, curled from being pinned up all day. 

Elle nodded, and felt a tremble start at the base of her spine and work its way up.  Her scalp was sensitive and always had been an erogenous zone for her.  She didn’t often have men touching her hair, since she kept it carefully tucked away.

“I am. Let me go put on—“

“No.” He stopped her before she could turn away, catching her by her wrists, gently.  “I don’t want any of the wigs anymore, Elle.  I want to see you.” He said it without a smile, a sternness that Elle took as meaning it wasn’t up for negotiation.  Still, she had to try.  She was nothing if not good at negotiating away from things that made her uncomfortable.

“Wigs are my thing though.  I can be anything you want.  A blond starlet.  A dark and mysterious spy.  A coy little mousy school teacher.” Elle smiled then and rolled her hips against him, her hands coming up to his chest. 

Tom was watching her, his expression neutral.  His eyes were dark, and she could tell he was turned on.  By the way he was looking at her, and by the pressure she could feel against her hip and stomach. 

“If I wanted a starlet, I’d get a starlet.  Same with a school teacher.  A spy, may be harder.” He smiled then.  “No more wigs, Elle.  You don’t have to be anyone else.  Not this week. Not while you’re with me.” He leaned forward then, and Elle took a deep breath, placed her hands on his chest.  She felt as if he was going to kiss her.  Like it was this deep, natural instinct that was hard to fight.

“Take my towel off.” Elle said, looking up at him through her eyelashes.  She watched him swallow, watched the movement in his throat, and the muscles and veins contract.

Elle held her hands out to the side, giving him access. 

Tom raised an eyebrow at her, a smile hinting ever so slightly at the sides of his mouth.  He had scruff—more so than before, as she was sure he’d not been able to shave in at least a day, if not longer.  She wondered what it would feel like against her neck and breasts and down her stomach.

She took a half step forward, and Tom reached for her. 

With one slow, steady movement, Tom untucked the top of her towel, and then let the white cotton fall to the ground.  Elle felt her whole body awaken as the cool air hit her warm, still slightly damp skin.  She felt completely aware of the temperature, the air, the closeness of Tom’s body, his eyes on her.

He stared at her face, his eyes locking on hers for a split second, before taking one achingly slow pass down her body.  She didn’t take her eyes off his, watching him as he looked at her.  His gaze went down, over her throat, across her shoulders, and then stopped at her breasts.

Elle felt her nipples tighten, her breath shorten as she watched him look at her.  His expression was hungry, heavy with desire, and somehow thoughtful, as if he was memorizing something about her.   She had an idea.  Tom’s eyes moved down, over her flat stomach, and rested momentarily between her thighs before sweeping down over her legs, and then back up again to her face.

“Like what you see?” She quipped with a slow smile, jutting one hip out to the side.  Tom nodded, slowly, and then moved forward, closing the space between them.  His hands went to her hips, pulling her hard against him.  She felt his arousal, strong against her bare stomach.  He bent his head, kissing her neck, biting gently as he worked his way down her throat.  Elle moaned, couldn’t help herself.  He slid his hands up her sides, over her breasts, cupping them in his hands as his fingers found her nipples. 

Elle felt her knees buckle slightly.  It wasn’t always like this.  It was almost never like this.  She could count on two hands the amount of times that it was like this.  Work was work to her.  But this didn’t totally feel like work.  In fact, it didn’t feel like work at all.  It felt, purely and completely, like pleasure.  Slow, aching, rolling waves of pleasure. 

Tom kissed her shoulders, down her chest, and then wrapped his luscious mouth over her nipple, sucking and licking as his hands pressed her breasts together.  He was bent over, feasting on her, as Elle held onto his shoulders, and then pushed her hands through his hair. They must have looked ridiculous.  He was fully dressed, and she was completely bare.  Elle needed to remedy that.

She pulled away from him, despite her whole body telling her to stay, and began making quick work of the buttons on his shirt.  Tom reached up, trying to help, but making it harder in the long run.  They both laughed, as he shrugged out of it, and Elle reached for his pants.  She could see the strain of his erection, pressing against the front of his trousers, and she slowed down for a moment and moved closer to him. She pressed her breasts against his chest as she ran her hand over his hard on, grabbing him through the material and stroking him as if he were bare in her hand.

Tom groaned, the sound low and needy, and she felt his whole body tense.

“Hmm. Big boy.” Elle said with a smirk, and Tom laughed, shaking his head at her.  Not surprisingly, she told almost all her clients they were ‘big’, but this was one of the rare cases where she truly meant it.  Good god, did she mean it. 

She grabbed at the button on his pants, nearly tearing them open, pulling them down along with his boxer briefs, exposing him. Tom kicked his pants off his feet.  Elle stayed crouching down in front of him, before moving onto her knees.  Her vision from earlier—of him looming over her, strong thighs, hands in her hair, moans filling the air…she felt a thrill run through her knowing it was about to come true.

“You look gorgeous down there.” Tom said playfully. Elle laughed, running her hands up his muscular, lean thighs. He jutted out in front of her, and she itched to touch him. 

“The view isn’t so bad from here, either.” She quipped, and then wrapped her hands around him.  Tom shifted, groaned, his hands bunched into fists at his sides.  Elle touched him, slowly and teasing, running her hand up and down his shaft, his skin soft and sensitive.  She glanced up at him, and saw his eyes nearly closed, but still focused on her, his jaw tense, his mouth set. 

She smiled at him, and then leaned forward, bracing herself on his thighs as she pressed a kiss to the tip of his erection.  She ran her tongue slowly down the length of him, and then used her mouth against him as she worked her way back. Elle felt her back arch, her hips move and wiggle as she did this, almost as if she were imagining him inside her as she had him in her mouth.  It was an instinctual thing, something she couldn’t help. 

“Oh fuck.” Tom groaned, and Elle felt his hands go to her hair.

Now, things could go two ways with this.  Some men got rough, grabbing her hair, thrusting into her mouth, making her choke.  Elle couldn’t say she enjoyed that.  At all. The other way, was what Tom seemed interested in.  He simply pushed his hands through her hair, holding onto her but not pushing or forcing, almost as if he just wanted to touch her, to feel her.  Elle felt a surge of lust, and a surprising rush of happiness as she felt him run his finger tips across her sensitive scalp.  She moaned against his cock, and then took him into her mouth, which elicited a similar groan from him.

He was big, definitely big, but not unmanageable.  And of course, Elle was a pro.  She grabbed his thighs, squeezed and then used her hands to follow her mouth, taking her time as she worked up and down his shaft.  She felt Tom’s body shiver against her, felt the way his knees trembled for just a moment before tightening up, the muscles rock hard again.  She was enjoying herself.  More than that, she found herself turned on.  Completely turned on.  She loved the way he was reacting to her, strong but surprisingly vulnerable.  She liked that she could make him feel this way.

“Jesus, Elle. I’m going to come if you don’t stop.” He moved his hands to her shoulders, gripping her tightly.  Elle smiled, but then put the tip of him in her mouth, sucking him and teasing him with her tongue.  Tom cursed, and then reached down and yanked her up to her feet. 

He pulled her against him, roughly, and then dipped his face down.  Elle licked her lips, and surged forward, brushing her mouth against his cheek, narrowly missing his lips and then to his throat.  She nipped her way down, biting a bit harder than normal, feeling Tom’s erection hard against her stomach, his grip tight on her ass.

Tom growled, and then lifted her up, and for a second she was sure he was going to be inside her.  She pushed back a bit, stopping him, her breath fast and short.

“Condom.” She said, and he nodded in response.  He carried her easily through the suite and into the bedroom, over to the bed, dropping her there as she landed softly, and bounced.  She watched him, watched the lean, muscular form of him as he walked over to his bag.  He was cut like a runner—tall and lean, but powerful.  She could make out every muscle, and her eyes dipped from his strong broad shoulders, to his tapered waist and abs, to the incredibly sexy lines that lead from his hips downward.  She squirmed on the bed, bringing herself to the edge, itching to touch him again.

Tom walked over, opening the condom package as he did.  Elle came to her knees, taking the small square foil package from him.  She opened it quickly and then grabbed him, smiling naughtily as she rolled the condom down the length of him.  Tom watched her, his eyes not leaving her hands, before he reached up and pushed her onto her back on the bed.

Tom came down on top of her a moment later.  He covered her with his body, heavy and hot on top of her.  His mouth came to her neck, her shoulder, her breasts.  Elle gave herself over to the sensation, running her hands through his hair and over his arms.  Tom grabbed her hands, bringing her fingers to his mouth, sucking on her fingertips before nipping them gently.  Elle moved to try and flip him onto his back, but Tom pinned her down, grinning.

He grabbed her wrists, lifting them up above her head.  Elle felt her breath catch, excited as he pushed her hands into the bed.  Tom leaned down, used one hand to keep her hands pinned, and used the other to touch her, sliding up between her thighs.  Elle arched her back, pushing against him, parting her legs as he touched her.  He groaned as he felt her, could feel the evidence of how turned on she was, how ready she was for him.

Tom pushed his hips against her, his erection pressing against her core.  He moved his hips, rubbing against her, making Elle moans in need, her breath coming out short and high.  He rolled his hips a few more times, before sliding inside her in one long, delicious stroke.  Elle shut her eyes, fearing that if she left them open, the pleasure would make her head explode.

“Oh god. Please.” She begged, hearing her voice but not really having any control over what she was saying.  Tom seemed to understand, despite the fact that she was pretty sure she wasn’t making much sense.  Just a mumble of moans and words like “need”, “want” and “please”. 

He drove into her, setting a slow, mind numbingly controlled pace.  Elle was putty in his hands, molding to him, unable to do anything but let him take her.  She couldn’t remember the last time sex had felt this good. Tom grabbed her leg, under her knee, raising it up to let him drive deeper.  She could hear herself crying out, and Tom reached up, brushed his hand over her lips, giving her something to bite and lick and kiss. He leaned forward, ravishing her neck as he murmured words into her ear.  It didn’t all make sense.  It didn’t have to. Just his voice, the dark timbre edged with that accent, rough with desire, made her whole body light on fire.

It didn’t take much more.  He had her in his embrace, and she was wrapped tightly around him, hips moving in synch.  Elle felt the pleasure start in her stomach and then race, like lightning through every other part of her body.  Up and down her legs to her toes, through her stomach and breasts and then out to her fingertips, making them numb and tingly.  She came hard, her hands grasping the sheets, and then Tom’s ass, pushing him closer and deeper.   He groaned as she tightened around him.  With a few more thrusts, these slightly more rough and uncontrolled, he joined her in losing sight of the world around them, for just those few minutes. 

Tom collapsed on top of her, his hips nearly joined with hers, and Elle tilted her head back into the bed, pleasure still coming over her in small, wonderful waves.  She felt him pulse inside her, and heard the rasp of his breath as his muscle tightened in response.

“God, Elle.” He whispered into her shoulder.  Elle grinned and ran a hand down his back, over his ass and then back up his spine.

“Holy hell.  Maybe I should be the one paying you.” She breathed, joking as she felt Tom start to chuckle softly. 

“Come on. Let’s go get a shower, and then I’ll call room service for more champagne.  I feel we need to celebrate what just happened.” He said with a sharp laugh, which made Elle giggle.  He moved, scooping her up with him, and carried her into the bathroom.


	7. Chapter 6

Elle and Tom were a little tipsy by the time they made it to dinner that night.  Perhaps a little more than just tipsy.  Tom had ordered two more bottles of champagne, and they’d spent the rest of the afternoon swimming in their private pool, relaxing and enjoying each other’s company.  Although there were other suites nearby, it was relatively private since they were located at the end of the row, and set slightly away from the other buildings. 

“Shh, you’ve got to stop…” Tom hiccupped, “…giggling” He hiccupped again, which set Elle into another round of giggles.  They walked, arms linked, through the meandering hotel grounds.  It was beautiful out—the sun was just barely beginning to set.  They were taking the long way around, following a stone pathway through the lush green grounds, and tall tropical trees. 

“You stop giggling first, you lush!” Elle smacked him gently on the stomach, and Tom turned and swept her into his arms, spinning her around.  Elle yelped and then smiled, swaying in his arms as he nuzzled his face against her shoulder and neck.  He was an affectionate person.  More so than she was used to, but she couldn’t say she disliked it.  It was nice, in fact.  Especially since she enjoyed his company, and couldn’t deny the attraction between them.  She’d been attracted to clients before, of course.  It didn’t happen often. And most of the time, she could barely remember their faces five minutes after she’d left their hotel room, but Tom was different. 

It didn’t seem to help that what had happened earlier that afternoon had not been a fluke.  Of course, sex between them was a given.  Elle was shocked that it hadn’t happened sooner, honestly.  They had chemistry.  That was for sure.  She knew she needed to be very careful, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so relaxed and even…happy.

“God, you smell like pineapples.  I could eat you.” Tom nipped at her throat, and Elle giggled and shoved him gently, though he didn’t budge. Tom licked her neck then, and stopped them both on the sandy, stone path.  He tugged her closer, and pressed her back up against a palm tree.  Elle quieted, and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him kiss his way down her neck.  He already had his hands on her hips, then they went sliding down her outer thighs.  She felt the heat of his breath on her skin, and every once in awhile he’d chuckle against her neck, which made her giggle as well.  It was nice to laugh with someone.  She wasn’t even quite sure what they were laughing at anymore.

“Someone is going to walk by.” She grinned.  It didn’t bother her, to be honest.  She’d been on many dates with men who had a voyeurism streak.  Cars, park benches, restaurant bathrooms, you name it.

“Just let me…” Tom murmured, ignoring her as he pushed his hips against hers.

“Mmm…that’s…oh!” Elle giggled again, and Tom laughed as well, his voice muffled in her cleavage.

“Tom, we can’t here.  Someone will see.  You don’t want someone to see us…” Elle shook her head, feeling Tom’s hands on her ribs, just under her breasts.  She wore another simple dress, this time more form fitting.

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.” Elle laughed and gave him a gentle shove.  He stumbled backward, grinning, his mouth and cheeks pink from kissing her skin, his hair ruffled from her hands.  He looked like he’d just taken quite a tumble in the sack, which made Elle feel warm and tingly all over.  She reached for him, trying to fix his hair, but he dodged her hands.

“You’ve no idea what I want to do to you right now, Elle.” He reached for her hand, smoothing back his hair as he tugged her along the pathway.  Elle raised an eyebrow at him, trailing just slightly after him.

“Oh, I’ve an idea.” She smirked.  Tom squeezed her hand and then let go.  He knew they couldn’t be seen together in an embrace, or in any sort of truly intimate setting.  The paparazzi weren’t actively seeking him out here, but given the opportunity, they would jump on it. 

“After dinner then, you’re dessert.” He turned around, and started walking backwards down the path, his blue eyes dark with lust as he watched her walk.  Elle grinned, feeling happy and lightheaded from the champagne and from the pleasure of being so desired. 

“Oh?” She said, her voice low and sultry.  She let her hips swing, giggled when Tom stumbled slightly as he kept walking backward.

“I’m going to feast on those thighs of yours.” He said, then broke into a wide, boyish grin.  Elle laughed, and felt herself blush, which was funny.  He was definitely surprising.  Good natured and eternally polite in public, she’d found that when he let loose a little, was in private and a few sheets to the wind, a quite different side came out.  But it wasn’t anything too crass or rude.  It was all fun, and flattering, and surprisingly sexy.

“Don’t tease.” She said slyly.  Tom stumbled again over a bump in the stone pathway, nearly falling backward.  They both broke into laughter as he caught himself, his arms flying out as Elle rushed forward to stabilize him.

“We are too drunk for dinner.” He said, steadying himself before they continued on.  She caught him slur slightly, pressed her face against his arm, grinning.

“You’re the one who ordered all that champagne.”

“Well, you looked terribly thirsty, darling. I was just being a gentleman.” He grinned, and then they walked through a clearing which brought them to the main courtyard of the hotel.  They could cross over the grassy lawn and go to reception, or go to the right past a huge, ornate water fountain and walk toward the restaurant.  Tom motioned to the right, and Elle followed.  They kept giggling, for no reason at all, as they made their way toward the open air restaurant called Azure.

“Elle!! ELLEEE!” The voice that met her, as they stepped up the wide steps toward the restaurant, made Elle sober up in mere seconds.  She froze, and blinked, and watched as Marjorie came barreling toward her, arms outstretched, mouth open in wide, excited glee.  She wore a brightly colored, strapless dress that wrapped around her body, and pushed her boobs up to nearly her chin.

“Marjorie?” Elle said, stunned to see her friend there.  Tom looked surprised as well, but he was at least smiling.  Marjorie came flying down, out of the restaurant, and jumped on Elle.  Elle stumbled backward, wrapping her arms around her friend to catch her.  Reality came crashing back to her. 

“Oh my god! Isn’t this place amazing?!” Marjorie gasped, pulling back.  Elle was still in shock.

“What are you…doing here?” Elle turned to Tom, who was walking up the stairs to greet David and Eddie, who were waiting at the top.  Eddie.  Eddie was looking past Tom, staring at both Elle and Marjorie, a wide, frozen grin on his face.

“I came with Eddie! We’re dating.  He’s amazing!” Marjorie giggled, and looped her arm through Elle’s as she tugged her up the stairs.  Elle tried to push past her shock.  It shouldn’t have been that surprising.  Marjorie had fast and furious relationships all the time.  The kind that burned hot and passionate, and then ended often in dramatics. 

“Wow, Marjorie!” Elle said, walking toward the table where the three men were waiting.  They were seated near the edge of the restaurant, at a private table on the deck, overlooking the beach and the beautiful Hawaiian skyline.  White linen covered the round table, flowers in the middle with tiny tealights encircled around. 

“Good evening, ladies. Elle.” David nodded toward Elle, who smiled at him, finding her manners hidden under the surprise of seeing Marjorie. 

“Elle, nice to see you again.  I had no idea you and Tom were shackin’ up.  Looks like Tom was finally able to seal a deal, eh? Guess love is in the air.” Eddie laughed, bumping Tom with his large elbow.  Tom shrugged and laughed, though Elle could see the smile didn’t go through to his eyes.

So, Eddie didn’t know then.  Elle glanced at Marjorie, who winked at her.  Eddie had no idea what they did for a living.  This was interesting, and could possibly make for some awkward situations later on.  Elle cleared her throat, pushing her dark hair from her shoulders.

“We’re just friends.” Tom said lamely.  David laughed sharply, but then quickly cut himself off and nodded.

“Friends. Yes. You know who I wish was my friend? Ryan Reynolds. I wish he was my really good friend.” David dead panned, and they all laughed as they sat down. Tom pulled Elle’s chair out for her, and she gave him a shy smile, surprised.   Eddie and Marjorie pulled their chairs close to each other, so Marjorie was practically on Eddie’s lap.  Tom smiled at Elle, but they stayed at a normal distance from each other so as not to look like conjoined twins trying to eat a meal.

“So you all know each other?” David asked Elle and Marjorie, as the waiter came over with water, and a wine list. 

“Elle and I are best friends. I love this girl.” Marjorie winked at Elle, who returned a smile.

“Oh? How do you know each other?” David asked, as Eddie ordered wine for the table.  Elle took a sip of her water, suddenly feeling parched.  She glanced at Tom, who widened his eyes for a second but then looked away to David.  He was no help.

“We are…coworkers.” Elle started.

“We work together. In sales.” Marjorie answered.  A pretty standard answer that they always used.  Elle took a deep breath, and tried to relax.  It was a beautiful night, with a gorgeous setting.  Her champagne buzz was starting to wear off, but it was for the best.  The waiter came back with wine, and Elle politely declined.  She needed to keep her wits about her now. 

“So you all met each other together? Funny how that works.” David said conversationally.  Tom looked back at Elle and gave her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah funny how lust at first sight works, right babe?” Eddie put a big hand on Marjorie’s thigh. “I saw this chick across the bar and just knew I had to have her.”

“We’ve been inseparable for the past few days.  When Elle told me she was coming with Tom to Hawaii, I begged Eddie to bring me! I wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Marjorie exclaimed. 

“It’s work, babe.” Eddie shrugged coolly.  Marjorie smiled at him, her smile only wavering slightly.  Elle sat back, taking in the whole scene. 

So, Eddie didn’t know what they did for a living.  And he had invited Marjorie as a guest, not as an escort.  She wasn’t sure how she felt.  Jealous? No, it couldn’t be jealousy.  Elle was making more this week with Tom, than she would make in over five or six months on her own.  Marjorie, on the other hand, was just getting a nice vacation out of it.  But still, she sort of wondered if it was nice to be invited somewhere without the pretense of having to be paid for it.  Elle cleared her head, trying not to think too deeply into the change of events. 

The rest of the dinner was fantastic.  The chef prepared six courses for the table, each one better than the last.  Elle was happy to have Marjorie there with her, as Marjorie did most of the talking.  It gave her some time to relax, and soak in the events that had taken place over the last two days. David and Tom were fantastic company, constantly riffing off each other and keeping the conversation going.  Eddie was quieter, though it was probably for the best.  He was a man of few words at times, and the words he did say were often rough around the edges.  The entire night, he kept his big hand on Marjorie’s upper thigh and his eyes on Elle, which Elle tried her best to ignore. 

She was sure it was just in her head, but he wasn’t her favorite person in the world.  At least he had Marjorie to keep his attention.  And she doubted he’d make a move since he knew she was with Tom now.  Thank god.

“We’ve got a full day tomorrow, guys.  We start interviews at ten, and go through til six or seven.  You get a lunch break somewhere in there.  The rest of the cast is coming in tonight, so Sheila and the supporting guys will be here soon.” David said, pushing his plate back as he finished. 

“Who is Sheila?” Elle whispered to Marjorie, who had just finished feeding Eddie a bite of chocolate tarte.  Eddie smacked his lips, and finished his glass of wine.

“Their co-star.  Jesus, Elle, haven’t you seen any of the movies? She’s Tom’s love interest.” Marjorie hissed back, nodding over to Tom, who was practically licking his plate clean.  Elle watched him with a half smile, amused.  The man loved his desserts, and it didn’t help that he was definitely drunk at this point.  The champagne, combined with the wine at dinner had sent him over the edge.

“Wait. Hold the phone.” David raised his hands up, overhearing Elle and Marjorie’s conversation.  Everyone at the table froze, Tom froze mid lick, spoon raised to his mouth.

“Hm?” Tom stopped, his blue eyes moving to David. Elle fought back a giggle.

“You’ve never seen any of the _Brighton’s Case_ movies?” David shot a look at Elle, who immediately grimaced and held up her hand.  Tom didn’t seem fazed by this, but Eddie was scowling.

“No…I don’t watch movies often.” Elle apologized, looking sheepish.  Tom took a drink of his wine and then smiled at her.

“We’ve got to remedy that.  This man is brilliant in them. Do you know the plot? Let me tell you the plot.” David launched into a stirring rendition of the plots of all three movies in the trilogy.  Apparently Tom was a scarred, overworked detective called Magnus Brighton.  He grew up with a tragic background, something about murdered parents, gangs and slum lords.  His parents died, his best friend was murdered, his lovely wife was nearly murdered by some nefarious killer in the first movie, and then definitely murdered by an even more nefarious killer in the second.  Sheila played his wife, and she’d been in all three movies thanks to flash backs and ghostly sightings.  In the end, Brighton ends up doing his best to fight for justice for his wife in a sad, beaten down city.  Elle thought it all sounded interesting, but terribly cliché. 

“It sounds really thrilling.” Elle nodded.  She was pretty sure the last movie she saw in theaters was _The Bodyguard_ in the early nineties. 

“It’ll knock your panties off. If you’re wearing any, that is.” Eddie grunted with a laugh, slapping Marjorie firmly on her thigh.  Marjorie squealed and then reached over and slapped him playfully.  Elle tried not to scowl, and so she turned her attention back to Tom and David.

“I’d love to see them.” She smiled.  Tom smiled at her, his eyes clear but his smile a bit wobbly.

“Would you? Don’t, they’re rubbish.” He shook his head.

“Fuck you, man.” Eddie said with a chuckle.  “My finest pieces of work.  And aren’t you glad for it.  I landed the hottest movie franchise, and made you a star, and all you can say is they’re ‘rubbish’.” Eddie said, his voice going high and badly British at the end.  Tom rolled his eyes and made a face, which made Elle laugh softly.

“You know they’re rubbish, Ed. You’ve said it yourself.  They started as one thing, and ended up beating themselves to death because the studios want more.  At this point, it’s a bit like masturbation.  We’re just screwing ourselves.” Tom laughed and sat back, throwing his napkin down on the table.

Elle swallowed, and watched the scene around her.  She was surprised, as Eddie seemed nonplussed, and Tom seemed frustrated, if not annoyed.  Their tones were light, even teasing, but she could seem something stirring just under the surface.

“And the studio wants another.” Eddie said pointedly, and took a gulp of his drink. 

“Yeah.” Tom mumbled and then turned slightly, looking out over the ocean.  Elle could see he was finished with the conversation.

“We’ll talk about it, Hiddleston.  You know I’ve got you for four movies. So, you owe me one.” Eddie said gruffly.  David shifted in his seat, and Elle narrowed her eyes, trying to read between the lines.  Tom’s jaw clenched, and he didn’t move for a long moment.  Elle wondered if he was going to launch himself across the table at Eddie, or start beating the table with his fists.  She took a deep breath.

“Boys, let’s not talk business here, okay?” David said, obviously uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry I brought it up.” Elle said softly.  Tom looked at her then, his head moving fast as he reached over, touched her arm softly.

“You’re fine, Elle. Don’t apologize.” All the earlier anger was gone from his voice.  Elle flashed him a small smile.

“I bet we can ask the hotel to get the movies for you. You could marathon the first two, and then you’ll see the third at the premiere in California.” David said, looking please with himself.  Marjorie squealed at this, as Elle was sure she was excited about the idea of a big movie premiere.

“Sure, absolutely.” Elle nodded, keeping her eyes on Tom.  He looked more at ease, but she could see his fingers tapping agitated on his thigh.  She shifted and started to gently fan herself with her napkin.

“I’m really sorry, but I’m feeling a little lightheaded.  Tom, do you mind walking me back?” She asked, taking a few deep breaths.  David looked concerned, and Marjorie instantly started cooing over her.  Elle promised she was fine, and was just tired and had too much to drink.  Tom quietly said goodnight to his friends, and then took Elle’s arm as they left the restaurant.

“Thank you.” He whispered into her ear as they walked down the stairs and toward the pathway back to their suite.  Elle wrapped an arm around his lean waist and nodded.

“No problem. I could tell you needed some fresh air.” She said with a gentle smile.  Tom nodded, but didn’t say anything, his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere. The effects of the alcohol had worn off, and they were both feeling a bit tired, and introspective. 

“Want to take a walk?” She nodded toward the beach.  The sun had gone down completely while they had been at dinner, but the moon was out, looking silver gray and impossibly large over the ocean.  Tom nodded, and they walked without speaking out onto the soft, powdery white sand.  Elle slipped off her shoes, and Tom followed suit, holding them in his hand.

They started down the beach, walking quietly and slowly, the waves the only noise around them. It was a beautiful night out, and Elle couldn’t have asked for a nicer evening.  It seemed strange that she’d only known Tom for a few, short days.  She felt so comfortable with him.  As if something inside her had known him longer.  As if somewhere along the way, they’d just been put on pause, and were now pushing play again.  It seemed strange, but Elle wasn’t questioning it.

“Sorry about earlier.  Eddie and I have…a complicated relationship.” Tom chuckled softly, and shook his head.  Elle kept pace with Tom, digging her toes into the sand as they walked.  It had been awhile since she had been to the beach, seen and heard the ocean, felt the soft, salty breeze on her skin.  It was comforting.

“You aren’t very alike.” She said quietly.

“You barely know either of us.” Tom said, his voice gentle.  Elle laughed, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t have to know you that well to see that you don’t have much in common with Eddie Porter.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around her middle.  Tom laughed softly, knowing she was right.

“Are you cold?” He asked.  She shook her head.  “You’re right.  We aren’t alike.  But I feel indebted to him.  He really is the whole reason I have a career.  He’s the reason Sheila has a career too.” Tom took a deep breath.  Elle walked slightly closer to the water, letting the breaking waves rush over her feet.  The water was surprisingly warm, but still refreshing. 

“Why do you say that?” She asked.

“I was pretty unknown before I landed _Brighton’s Case._ I was doing theater and small roles on television.  I landed the role, and because of Eddie, it really blew up.  It went from one movie and morphed into this franchise.  I was dating Sheila at the time, and I recommended her to Eddie.  He gave her the job.” Tom explained. 

“Oh.” Elle suddenly wondered what Sheila looked like. 

“The studios want a fourth movie, though our contracts were only for three.  Eddie is really trying to talk me into doing the fourth movie but, I just…” Tom stopped, groaning as he ran a hand through his short hair.  He scrubbed his hand over his face, against his jaw.

“You’re ready to move on?” Elle asked softly.

“Yes.  I hope I don’t sound like an ungrateful prat, but…it’s been seven years of my life already.  I don’t feel inspired or connected to the work I’m doing. I want to get back to my roots, and let _Brighton_ go.  And Eddie isn’t ready.  Another _Brighton’s Case_ would take another year of commitments, at least.  Five months of shooting.  Months of press and publicity.  And if you’d seen the movies, you’d understand why I’m not so keen.  They’ve got no soul.  They’re heartless blockbusters.  Moneymakers.  But if I say no, then he also won’t negotiate with Sheila.  And Sheila really wants to do the fourth one.  She hasn’t had many offers for other work, and she’s got a family now.  So, I’m stuck.” Tom turned to Elle, his expression thoughtful, and worried. 

“Do you still care about Sheila?” Elle asked.

“Sure, of course.  She’s a good friend.  I don’t have feelings for her anymore, if that’s what you mean.  She’s married and has two kids now. But, I care about her.” Tom shook his head, and turned looking out over the water.  Elle was quiet for a few moments, not sure what to tell him.

“You would have made it even without Eddie, you know.” Elle bumped him with her elbow.

“Oh?” He laughed.

“Yes. You’ve just got it.  That’s not something that even a god-like director like Eddie Porter could manufacture.” She teased.  “And maybe you need to think about yourself a bit. You lose your soul in your work, then what do you have left?” She asked.  Her words echoed in her own ears, but she knew it was different for her.  Tom had options.  He had a bright future ahead of him.  For her, it was just more of the same.  Making ends meet.  Trying to keep the past from running her over.

“Thank you, Elle.” Tom said sincerely.  “And thanks for listening.  You’re pretty good at it.” He said with a soft chuckle.  Elle reached over, wrapping her arm around his and squeezing.  He squeezed back, and leaned into her.

“It’s sort of my job.  To listen.”

“Yeah?” Tom turned to her, and she could hear the surprise in his voice.  Elle stiffened, just slightly.

“You’d be surprised.  Sure, men want sex.  But they want more what they don’t get at home.  Someone to listen.  Someone to care for them, give them attention.  So I’m good at that. I’m good at being a caring without adding to the issue.  I’m like a personal non-person, if that makes any sense.” She said with a breathy laugh.  Tom winced slightly, and slid his hand to hers.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever treated you like a non-person.” He said softly.  Elle pressed her lips together.  “I suppose this whole situation is—“

“Don’t feel bad about our arrangement, Hiddleston.” Elle said quickly, simply.  “It’s mutually beneficial.  And there’s nothing wrong with being friendly while we do it.”  She gave him a reassuring smile.  “And no, you’ve never treated me like a non-person.” She added. 

Tom nodded, his jaw set.  After a few minutes, without a word, he steered them slowly off the beach and back toward their suite.


	8. Chapter 7

Elle laughed, and then dug her heels into the bed, pushing away but not moving an inch.

“Oh, no you don’t.” Tom mumbled, his voice rough with sleep.  His hands shot out from under the covers, grabbing her and giving her a firm yank toward him.  Elle groaned softly, arching her back and shoving her feet against his sides and shoulders, which didn’t seem to deter him in the least bit.  Tom wrapped his arms around her legs, holding onto her hips, pressing her down into the bed. 

Elle sighed shakily, her breath leaving her lungs without any warning.  She reached down, crying out as she felt his mouth, wet and warm, against her inner thighs.  Elle pushed her hands through his already messy hair, tugging gently as she gasped.

“I can’t again. I can’t—“ She shook her head back and forth, pressing her mouth against the pillow and biting down as she felt him caress her, his hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere at once.

“Shh, relax.” He murmured, lowering his head.  Elle giggled, and closed her thighs around his head for a moment, before he grabbed her knees, and gently pushed them open, baring her to him. 

“You’re going to kill me.” She said breathlessly, letting her eyes close and her whole body come to alert.  It was a lovely, intoxicating mix of being completely, utterly relaxed, and also on the edge of a precipice, constantly balancing, ready to fall over. 

“Stop talking, Elle.” He said with a half laugh.  Elle grinned, shaking her head as she let the sensation take over.  Elle dug her fingers into the bed, the sheets, Tom’s arms, and finally intertwined her fingers with his. He grabbed tight, squeezing her hands as he used his mouth—his lips and tongue on her, in ways that made her toes curl and her thighs shake uncontrollably. 

They’d been at it all morning.  Since Elle had woken up, parched from too much champagne the night before.  She’d gone to the bathroom to brush the terrible hangover taste from her mouth, and guzzle down a glass of water.  When she’d come back to bed, the Hawaiian sun barely peaking over gorgeous, lush scenery, Tom was awake as well.  He’d slipped briefly into the bathroom as well, but when he’d come back, he hadn’t left her alone.

He had started at her toes and then worked his way, lazily, hazily, up her legs.  He’d stopped at her thighs, and then kept moving. Elle hadn’t known how much time had passed, but it had been enough that the sun had risen completely, and they were both sweaty, fully awake, and in a bit of a daze by the time hotel services were calling Tom for his morning wake up.

“Don’t you dare answer that.” He grumbled, his face still between her thighs.  Elle gasped, shaking her head.  She couldn’t if she’d tried.

“They’ll…keep…calling…” Elle managed, feeling her breath getting choppy, her hips undulating against him.  Tom didn’t answer, he couldn’t at the moment either.  The phone kept ringing for a few more seconds, and then stopped.  Tom seemed relieved, as he began flicking his tongue rather excitedly against Elle, using his hands to supplement the movements.  Elle gasped, and then went tumbling over the edge.  She felt her body tense, and then tremble roughly with the pleasure of it.  Tom groaned against her, reacting to her orgasm, as Elle gasped and let out high pitched noises she had no control over.

Just as she was sure every bone in her body had melted, the phone started ringing again.  Tom sprang up, his brow furrowed, his eyes annoyed as he clumsily climbed over Elle, toward the phone on the bedside table.  He hovered on all fours above her, and Elle reached up happily, fully sated, as she ran her fingertips lightly down his bare chest.

“Bloody fucking hell.” He murmured with an annoyed but delighted laugh, roughly wiping his mouth against the back of his hand before yanking the phone off the cradle.

“Hello.” He said, his voice clipped.  Elle started to laugh, turning her head to watch him.  He was visibly agitated and also visibly…turned on.  He looked at her and narrowed his eyes, his jaw set. A silent warning.

“Yes. Thank you.” His voice more stern.  He quickly hung up the phone then, and with a loud growl, launched himself at Elle.  She squealed, trying to scramble away, but her arms and legs hadn’t quite regained full functionality, and she simply scooted back an inch or two.

Tom landed on her, his hands tickling and grabbing, kissing her neck as he continued making noises.  Elle shrieked, laughing as she shoved at him, completely ineffective.  They kept at this for a few minutes, until Elle could barely breathe, and Tom had laughed himself silly.  He lay panting slightly next to her, Elle wrapped around him, pinching him lightly on the side.

“You’ve got to get ready.” She pressed her hand against his stomach, pushing gently against his muscles.  Tom nodded.

“Interviews all day.  It’s just this insane, never ending line up of press, asking the same questions over and over.” He sighed.  “It can be fun thought.  Sheila will be joining me for some of them, and Eddie for the others.  Eddie always makes it entertaining.” He smirked.  Elle nodded and sat up, pulling the covers with her as she did.

“What would you like me to do while you’re gone?” She asked.  Tom smiled and sat up, taking a deep breath.

“Take pictures of the parts I was just kissing, and send them to me on my mobile.” He raised an eyebrow, and Elle glared good naturedly at him.

“That costs extra.” She teased.  He smiled and sighed.

“I forgot to tell you. I arranged some things at the spa for you—you and Marjorie.  And then, if you’d like to go shopping, there’s some places right in the hotel you can go to.  Charge them to the room.” He said, stretching out for a minute before standing up to go to the bathroom.

“A spa day?” Elle grinned, watching him walk away.  Tom nodded, pausing at the bathroom door.

“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I just got whatever the woman on the phone suggested.  Something about sea wraps and mud and skin scrubs.  It sounded terrifying. I hope you enjoy it.” He laughed.

“Thank you, Tom.  It sounds perfect.  Thank you for thinking of Marjorie as well.”  Elle said, feeling touched that he’d include her friend.  He smiled, dipping his head slightly, looking a bit shy.

“It’s no problem, Elle.  Get something fancy for dinner tonight too.  Have a good time with it.  I’ll meet you in the lobby around seven.  Okay?” He asked.  Elle nodded, not able to keep the smile off her face.

 ****

 

Elle couldn’t remember the last time she felt so relaxed.  It was as if every muscle in her body were made at play doh, and she had no worries in the world. The biggest worry was whether to get her toenails painted bright red, or a more tame coral color.   Tom had gone all out for them, though he may not have realized it.

So far, they’d had a hot stone massage, followed by a rain shower rinse.  They’d been wrapped in hot towels and some sort of seaweed mask, and then they’d soaked in huge tubs full of mineral rich mud.  Elle and Marjorie had both laughed their way through that one, feeling a giddy with the pampering.  After the mud had been washed off, they were getting manicures and pedicures to finish the day.  Then, they were planning on hitting the fancy shops in the far end of the hotel grounds.  Elle already had her mind set on findings something sophisticated and sexy for that night.  Something that would have Tom’s jaw on the floor.

“He’s really paying for this? It’s not coming out of your fee?” Marjorie whispered, as Elle looked through nail polish samples. 

“Yeah, he’s paying.  Sweet, isn’t it?” She said, picking out a cherry red.  Marjorie had chosen bright blue for her toes and French tips for her fingers.

“It is sweet.  A little too sweet.” Marjorie prodded.  Elle rolled her eyes.

“Don’t, Marj.” She said with an unspoken warning.  Elle sat back in the big, leather chair, holding her hands out to the technician who sat down across from her.

“I’m just saying, Elle.  Don’t get swept up in it all.  Men are _never_ that nice. Maybe he’s hoping to get something out of it.  Some freebies.” Marjorie shrugged.  Elle gave Marjorie a warning look, not wanting to discuss the arrangement when they were surrounded by so many ears.

“He’s no Eddie, that’s for sure.” Elle teased.  Marjorie laughed.  “But, no, I think he’s just a nice guy.  Really. Just…a good guy.” Elle’s mind wandered back to that morning.  He hadn’t been the least concerned about his own state—only worried about her.  And oh, did he take care of her.

“Are you blushing? Elle?” Marjorie leaned forward, trying to get a good look at her friends face.  Elle frowned and dipped her head down.

“No.” She rolled her eyes.

“You didn’t kiss him, did you?” Marjorie said, her voice a loud whisper.  Elle shot her a look.

“No, I’m not an idiot. It’s just work, Marjorie. I _know_.” She crossed her legs, and pressed her lips together.  Marjorie huffed softly next to her.

“Just making sure. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” Marjorie quipped.  Elle grunted, and felt her leg began to shake, annoyed. 

“You’re the one dating a man who I refer to as the dark Hulk.  And he doesn’t even know what we do.” Elle blinked.  Marjorie sneered and shrugged, inspecting her newly painted nails.  Elle waited, wondering what her friend’s explanation could be for keeping such important information from Eddie.

“He might be the _one_ , Elle. He doesn’t need to know.  It’s behind me for now.  And he’s an open minded guy.  I’ll tell him when the time is right.  If I stick with him, I could really go places, girl.” Marjorie sighed, and Elle could practically see the stars in her eyes.  She swallowed hard, wondering if her friends needed a firm knock on the head or just a stern talking to.

“The one? Come on.  You don’t believe in that.” Elle blinked.  Marjorie gasped, looking offended.

“Of course I do.  You don’t?  Elle, if you don’t believe in love, in true love—a prince charming coming to rescue you on a white horse, then what’s there to live for?  Hour clients? Day in and day out? Shitty studio apartments? Blow jobs in the backs of limos?” Marjorie hissed.  Elle took a deep breath.

“I’m just being realisitic, Marj.  And no, I don’t believe in all that stuff.  Not like that.  That sort of stuff doesn’t happen to women like us.”

“Tom’s rather prince like.” Marjorie said in a sing songy voice. 

“He’s a client. Nothing more.” Elle said stiffly.

“Right, I know.  But—“

“Marjorie, stop it. Now.” Elle’s voice went stern, and cold.  She looked quickly to Marjorie, who was stunned into silence.  Elle hardly ever got mad.  She wasn’t exactly mad now, but she was done with the conversation.  Her face was blank, her eyes cool and closed off.

“I’m happy for you, Marj. I am.  But please, don’t try to insinuate that Tom is anything more than a client.  A good one, but still, just a job.  That’s all he is to me, all he ever will be.  It’s not right or…rational to force me to entertain anything otherwise.  It’s cruel, honestly.” Elle said, in a clipped, quiet voice.  To anyone nearby, they were simply two girlfriends gossiping.  But Elle was upset, and Marjorie felt bad, knowing she shouldn’t have pushed the issue.  For women like them, the happily ever after was just often a harsh, untrue reality.

“I’m sorry.” Marjorie apologized, reaching over and putting a hand on Elle’s arm. Elle gave her a quick smile.

“Sorry I snapped at you.  I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” She said, forcing a laugh.  Marjorie nudged her conspiratorially, and the topic was quickly dropped and changed.  Marjorie went on to talk about all the great movies Eddie had lined up to work on.  Elle drifted into her own thoughts, trying not to let a world where princes, white knights, happily ever afters existed.

 ****

 

 Marjorie wrapped an arm around Elle’s, tugging her short, tight mini skirt down.  They sauntered through the wide, beautiful glass atrium of the hotel, making their way toward the boutique shops.  Marjorie was dressed as she would have been back at home—a tight electric blue mini skirt, paired with a black and white striped boat neck crop top, that bared both her shoulders and a good amount of her ample cleavage.  She had on six inch stilettos, and though she looked hot, she also fit the bill of her profession.

Elle was dressed a bit more subtlety.   Tom was a different man than Eddie, and Elle was a different woman than Marjorie.  It fit that Marjorie had ended up with the flashy, blunt Eddie.  Elle was dressed in simple dark skinny jeans and a halter neck tank top.  Her dark hair was piled on top of her head in a messy bun, something she’d done quickly when they’d left the spa.

“No wig, huh?  Too hot?” Marjorie asked, as they neared the shop that Elle had had her eye on.  A store filled with beautiful cocktail dresses, a gorgeous display of them in the front windows.  Several top designers names were advertised on the front of the store windows, and Elle knew she’d find what she was looking for there.

“Um, well, Tom prefers no wig.” Elle shrugged.  Marjorie raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 

“He wants to tug on your real hair, eh?” She quipped, just as they walked into the store.  Both women burst into giggles, Marjorie clinging to Elle as they stepped inside. 

It was a beautiful store.  The floors were marble, like most of the hotel.  Dresses were lined up on display, and there was a small selections of garments hanging on racks.  It was obviously very high end, and Elle immediately felt a bit out of place as they walked in.  Marjorie stuck out like a sore thumb, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Two women stood in the center of the small boutique, wearing skirts and silk sleeveless blouses in various shades of peach and gold.  Elle smiled at them, but they didn’t quite return the greeting.

“Hello.  Can we help you?” One of the women stepped forward, and Elle immediately picked up hints of snob and superiority in her perfume.  The woman had on a delicate gold name tag, with the name “Julia” engraved on in it script letters.  Elle straightened her posture without realizing it, but Marjorie kept laughing at their joke, walking around and looking through the dresses on the racks.  The woman that was still behind the counter sneered at Marjorie, as if Marjorie was going to leave marks on the fine clothing.

“Hi. I’m looking for a dress. For a dinner party.” Elle looked around quickly, spotting a gorgeous dark blue dress on one of the mannequins.  If they could get in and out quickly, then perhaps that would be for the best.

“How about this one? Can you tell me how much it is?” She asked, forcing a smile at Julia, who was still just staring at her.  Julia’s reddish brown hair was twisted up in a neat knot and she was holding her chin so high that Elle could practically see down her nostrils. 

“Honey, I don’t think you can afford that one.  Or really, any of the dresses in here.  It’s _very_ expensive.  You probably want to find a store that sells things that are a bit…cheaper.” The woman blinked, then gave Elle a slow once over.  Marjorie looked up from where she was flipping through dresses, her mouth opened slightly. 

“I…” Elle stuttered for a moment, shocked at the woman’s response.

“Excuse me? Do you know who we are?” Marjorie came out of nowhere, stepping up next to Elle.  Elle froze, not wanting to make a scene.  She suddenly just wanted to leave.  She glanced over at Marjorie, not wanting her to blurt out anything about her “relationship” with Tom. 

“I can take a wild guess.” Julia raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow.

“Elle, let’s go.” Marjorie rolled her eyes.  “I’ll have you know, my boyfriend is Eddie Porter.  The director.  He’ll have your jobs for being such rude little—“

“Marjorie.” Elle stopped her friend, before things got out of hand.  She turned to Julia, trying her best to be friendly and ignore the fact that both women who worked in the boutique were shooting daggers at them with their eyes.  Elle just wanted a dress.  No, she _needed_ a dress for that night.

“I’m sorry, Julia?” Elle said to the nostril-y woman.  “I just need a dress for tonight.  I’m charging it to my room.  If you could please? And we’ll get out of your perfectly coiffed hair.”  Elle said, managing to pool together as much sweetness as she had left.  Julia blinked and then raised a shoulder.

“What room are you charging it to? I’ll have to confirm.” Julia said in a clipped voice.  Elle sighed.

“The Orchid Suite. My names Elle Amore.” She said, swallowing hard as she followed Julia over to the sales counter where there was a computer.  Julia started typing rapidly, checking things quickly.  The other woman stood silently behind the counter, watching them and stewing in her own self importance.  Marjorie clicked her long, perfectly manicured nails against the counter, pretending to be interested in one of the many gorgeous, jewel encrusted necklaces inside the glass case.

“I see. That room isn’t registered under an _Elle Amore_.” Julia said her name like it was an insult.  Elle licked her lips, getting a bit more annoyed at this point.  She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Right, it’s registered under my friend, Tom.” She said softly.  Julia blinked slowly and then rolled her eyes. 

“If I can get in touch with him, then I can authorize it.” Julia shrugged, reaching for her phone.  Elle groaned softly, shaking her head.  Tom was in interviews all day.  He definitely wouldn’t be in the suite, and Elle wouldn’t bother him while he was working.

“No, he’s working.  He won’t be there.” She shook her head.  Julia stopped, mid dial and just stared at Elle, looking bored and annoyed.

“Well, sorry then. Can’t charge anything to the room. Next time tell your, uh, friend, that he should put you on the room.  We advise all our guests to do that for their special visitors. Whoops.” Julia hung up the phone and gave Elle a rather smug, unapologetic smile.  Elle pressed her lips together, took a deep breath and nodded.

“Great. Thanks for your help.” She quickly turned, and left, Marjorie at her heel, her face burning with embarrassment.

 

 ****

Elle made up an excuse to Marjorie after that, and said she was tired and needed a nap after all the spa treatments.  Marjorie hadn’t quite bought it but Elle didn’t care.  She needed to be alone for the rest of the afternoon.  It was nearing five, and she still needed a dress for that night and she needed to get ready.  She couldn’t help but be angry, and embarrassed after what had happened in the boutique.  Those women had been so rude, and nearly cruel in their snobbery, that Elle felt the lingering effects of it long after they’d left the store.

After Marjorie went on her own way, Elle asked the concierge to arrange for a car to take her shopping at a popular tourist spot not far from the hotel.  There, at a small boutique, she’d found a perfect dress for that night.  It was a gorgeous dark teal lace over a nude sheath, cut with a sweetheart neckline and delicate off the shoulder cap sleeves.  The pencil skirt hit Elle at just the right spot, elongating her already long legs.  She felt beautiful in it—elegant and classy.  Just how she imagined she should feel while on the arm of a man like Tom. 

The only issue was, it was three thousand dollars.  Tom had already deposited half her fee into her account, and Elle had felt a quick stab of pain when she had given the sales girl her credit card.  There was nothing else she could do about it except pay for it herself.  She needed the dress, and she’d be damned if she would go back to that shop.

When she’d gotten back to the hotel, Elle had just enough time to get herself ready before meeting Tom in the lobby.  She paired the dress with simple nude heels, and curled her hair so that it fell in dark chocolate waves over her shoulders.  She did her makeup carefully, deciding on dramatic smokey eyes and a more simple lip to compliment the dress.  It was just nearing on seven, when she stepped out of the suite, and started making her way across the grounds to meet up with Tom. 

She couldn’t say she was in the best mood.  The relaxation from earlier that day had been somewhat killed by the treatment from the girls in the shop.  Elle didn’t want to let it ruin her night though, so when she got to the lobby, and saw Tom already waiting in his dark suit and blood red satin tie, she felt a genuine smile slip onto her face. 

He turned just as she walked up, and the wide grin upon seeing her, made Elle feel much better.  He smiled at her, and then she felt his eyes take her in, absorbing every detail of her.

“You are stunning.” Tom closed the distance between then, and gently pulled Elle into a hug, brushing his lips past her cheek.

“Thank you.” She smiled, pleased.  “You look very handsome as well.” She had no idea where he’d gotten ready, but he looked great.  And he smelled amazing. Like sweet tropical flowers, mixed with something woodsy and clean, and then that unmistakable Tom smell. She pulled back, taking him in.

“God, I’m away from you for all of nine hours and I’m practically starving for you.” He leaned in, whispered in her ear.  Elle shivered, delighted with his reaction.

“Who knew a dress could be so tempting?” She demurred. 

“It’s not just the dress, Elle.” Tom laughed.  Elle smiled and reached up, gently adjusting his tie.

“You’re a little crooked.” She smoothed a hand down the front of his suit. 

“I highly doubt anyone will be looking at me and my crooked tie.” He said softly.  “So you had a good day then? How was the spa? And the dress shopping must have been successful.” He smiled warmly.  They slowly made their way through the lobby.  It was a few minutes walk to the restaurant, and neither of them minded the short walk. It would give them some time to catch up after an afternoon apart.

“The spa was fantastic.  So relaxing.  Thank you, again.” She smiled, purposely leaving out the part about the dress.  Tom nodded, tucking his hands leisurely into his trouser pockets.

“And shopping? I hope you got enough things for the rest of the week.” He said, his voice light and cheerful.  Elle hesitated, and managed to force a smile.

“Well…” She swallowed.  Tom frowned, and raised an eyebrow.

Without fully meaning to, Elle launched into the story.  She told him about how the women were rude, and basically giving them the third degree based most likely on how they were dressed.  She tried not to mention how embarrassed she’d felt, but by the end, she was shaking her head, frustrated all over again, telling Tom how bad she had felt after leaving.  Tom listened, frowning the whole time, his jaw set and clenched as he waited for her to finish.

“That was the store down here?” He pointed down the long, glass hallway and Elle chewed nervously on her lower lip.

“Yes.” She nodded.  Tom pursed his lips for a moment and then gave a quick nod.

“Right. Let’s go.” He took her hand and then went off, walking as fast as his long legs could carry him, Elle right behind him scrambling to keep up in heels and a pencil skirt.

They stopped right outside the store, and Tom put his hands on Elle’s shoulders, stopping her.

“Which one was it? That one?” He gestured into the store, through the glass windows.  The same two women were inside, their backs to the storefront.

“The reddish brown haired one.  Julia.  Though they were both…unpleasant.” Elle said softly.

“Wait here for a moment, okay?” He asked, his eyes steady and determined.

“Tom—really—“ Elle started, but he shook his head and flashed her a smile.

“You really are fucking gorgeous, darling.” He said with a wink, and then turned and went into the store.  Elle laughed softly to herself, shaking her head. 

She slid off to the side, out of view, but still within ear shot of the inside of the small boutique.  She watched as Tom sauntered into the store, looking ridiculously handsome in his suit, and almost immediately both women working perked up.

“Hello there.” Julia was the first to speak, her head tilting and her interested piqued.

“Good evening, ladies.” Tom said, the charm turned to 110%.  Elle stifled a giggle. 

“What can we help you with? I sure hope we can help you with _something_.” Julia said, and Elle wanted to gag.  Tom chuckled, and made his way toward the counter in the middle of the store. 

“I do hope one of you lovely ladies can help.  I need to buy a gift for my friend.  Something expensive.” He leaned against the glass case and looked down, inspecting the necklaces inside.  Julia nearly ran to where Tom was standing, and instead of going on the other side of the counter, she positioned herself right next to him, her side nearly bumping into his.  Elle rolled her eyes.

“A friend? A girlfriend or…” Julia cooed.  Tom smiled, his blue eyes practically sparkling.

“Perhaps.” He winked, oozing smarmy charm.  Elle let out a tiny squeak of laughter, trying to keep quiet.  He was insufferable.

“Well, isn’t she lucky. And so are you, you’ve come to just the right spot.  We’ve got so many beautiful, unique things for those with expensive taste.” Julia reached over Tom to open the case, casually brushing her breasts against his arm as she did.  Elle scowled.  She knew every trick in the book, and apparently so did Julia.  She wondered if Julia was in the market for a new career path. She’d fit right in at the agency.

“This is lovely.” Tom held up a necklace, that Elle thought was hideous.  It was encrusted in green and blue jewels, and practically dripping with gold filigree. 

“Ah, yes, one of our most exquisite pieces.  A sure fit for any special lady. Sapphires and emeralds set in gold filigree. If you’d like, I could try it on, so you could see what it looks like on the décolletage.” Julia ran a hand gracefully across the bare skin on her collarbones and by the low dip in her blouse.  Elle’s eyes widened.  Subtle.

Tom coughed softly and then nodded, casting a sideways glance in Elle’s direction, which made her stifle another giggle.

“Please.” He said, lifting the necklace as Julia turned around so he could put it on her.  Elle watched, fascinated.  It was a truly ugly piece, and Tom seemed to be having way too much fun as Julia sighed and flirted, running a manicured hand over the gaudy necklace.

“Isn’t it perfect? Sensual and feminine?” Julia asked, leaning forward to give Tom a better view. Of everything.

“It’s…a special piece.” Tom said carefully. “Tell me, Julia, do you work off commission?” He asked nonchalantly.  Julia smiled and gave a demure little shrug.

“I do, but don’t worry.  That doesn’t shade or inhibit me at all when helping customers. I want only what is best for you, and let me tell you, this piece is an absolute breath taker.” Julia reached forward, wrapping her spindly fingers around Tom’s forearm.  “It gives me a thrill just to wear it.” She practically shivered.  Elle wondered if Tom should be checked for diseases after this.

“How much would a piece like this cost me, darling?” Tom asked with a slow, sickeningly smooth smile.  Elle raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s a steal at a $250,000.” Julia smiled, slowly batting her eyelashes at Tom.  Elle took a deep breath.

“Hmm, well.  Maybe I should ask my friend what she thinks.  Elle?” Tom called out, looking toward the door.  Elle’s eyes widened for a moment, and hers weren’t the only eyes that got a bit bigger.  She shook her head and tried to keep the smile off her face as she strode into the boutique, chin up and eyes locked on Tom. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Julia’s mouth drop open, her jaw practically on the floor as Elle walked up and smiled modestly.  Tom grinned and held an arm out, as Elle slipped into the spot at his side, sliding a hand across his chest.

“Elle, love, I thought I’d do some shopping.” Tom winked at her, and Elle had to do whatever it took to hold in a laugh.

“Really? I’ve personally had enough shopping today.” She looked then at Julia, who still had not recovered.  Elle clung a bit tighter to Tom and then narrowed her eyes just slightly at the shop girl.  She couldn’t help it.  It felt _good._

“Oh, you again.” Elle blinked.  “Tom, I was in here earlier.  They wouldn’t help me.  Shame, right?” Elle said with a humorless laugh.  Tom didn’t laugh, nor did he smile.

“Hmm, yes. Shame. What do you think about this necklace, darling? Should I buy it for you?” He nodded toward the necklace that was still on Julia’s neck.  At this point, it looked as if it were choking her, judging by the look on her face. 

Elle took a glance at it, and squeezed Tom’s side, wanting him to know just how wonderful he truly was.

“No. I don’t think so. It looks cheap.” She quipped. 

“Right then.” He smiled at Elle, warm and full of open adoration, before turning to Julia and shaking his head. “We don’t want the necklace.  It looks cheap.  Thanks though.  Have a fantastic night!” He flashed a grin, and then they were gone.

They practically ran out of the store, and down the wide, expansive hallways of the hotel.  Tom was shaking with laughter, and Elle was practically crying, wheezing slightly as they hurried along.  They made it through a set of wide double doors, and out into the breezy night air, before collapsing together onto a bench that overlooked the moonlit ocean.  Elle was wiping her eyes, trying not to smear her makeup as Tom was chuckling and trying to catch his breath.

“Oh god.  You are amazing, you know that? A goddamn perfect peach of a man.” Elle couldn’t help herself, she was giddy with relief and pure happiness. She couldn’t recall a time, ever, that someone had stood up for her like that.  And in such a spectacular manner.

 “I could kiss you right now, that was so perfect.” She giggled.  Tom smiled then, and briefly was able to stop laughing. 

He gave her a simple, sheepish looking smile being shrugging his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t say no to a kiss.” He said simply, in such an off the cuff way that Elle almost didn’t catch it.  She swallowed hard then, and turned to him, her heart beating fast and hard against her rib cage.

Gently, she reached forward and took his face in her hands, her thumbs rubbing gently over his cheekbones for a short few moments.

“Thank you.  Truly.  That was…really something.” She said softly.  Tom nodded, his expression serious as his eyes flitted from hers, down to her mouth and then back up to her gaze.  Elle leaned forward, slowly, and gently pressed a kiss to his cheek.  She could feel the slight roughness of his stubble, the softness of his skin just millimeters away.  She kissed one cheek, then the other, and then the tip of his nose, before pulling away and gently sliding her hands down his neck and to his chest.

“Thank you.” She said again, softer.  Tom licked his lips and his lips parted, just so slightly.  Elle took a deep breath.

“You’re welcome.” He whispered.  “May I kiss you?” He asked, not missing a beat.  Elle blinked, immediately biting down on the inside of her lip.  She shook her head.

“No. You know my rule.” She bit down a bit harder, and then gave him a quick smile.  “Come on, we’ll be late for dinner, right?” She asked, as she quickly stood up, off the bench.  She held out her hand to him, waiting for him to take it.  Tom took a second longer than he should have but, he nodded then and reached up and took her hand, letting her help him up, a small smile playing on his mouth.

“Right, don’t want to be late for dinner.” He said softly, giving her his arm as they made their way toward the restaurant.


End file.
